#but i hope this works for u ! lmk if anything needs to be changed !

[massensterben]

plotted starter for @lausticzt

The dark drips down onto his head. Everything is wet. Everything is damp and cold. He imagines the mother's womb inverted. He is suspended by chains where nothing grows. His teeth have not met for weeks, blocked by a metal bit that erases the possibility of bite. His jaw aches so much, it has crept into his head as a skull-splitting migraine. Or maybe that is the starvation, the lack of drinking water.

All the water he gets is cold and black and kills him. They sometimes come with rattling instruments, with a metal basin full of water. And then they grab him by the neck and drown him. Like a litter of kittens. Over and over. The fear never stops. The pain never eases. His lungs rupture over and over and he can never get enough air afterwards. Then there is a pitiful hacking and spitting. Worse if they don't even ask him anything. He couldn't bargain his way out of the drowning. They want to be repaid for the fear he caused them. They want him to die for every death he caused. They don't want anything from him beyond his fear.

And they get it. His meat stinks with it, where it hasn't sloughed off his bones. The cell is a cramped, foul space. Low ceilings breed low minds. He is like an organism born in this crevice; he shies from the light. He wants to hide and flee into the recesses of his rimose mind. When the cell door clicks and shivers and squeals, the strung up shape of the prisoner flinches out of its stasis in horror.

Hollow eyes blink against the torch light to guess at the shape of a woman. Rare enough that it'll be a woman, but not unheard of. It doesn't make a difference. They're just just as angry, just as cruel, as the men. Bertholdt, what remains of Bertholdt, shifts back into the shadow as best as his atrophied legs allow him. A soft begging noise flays his throat.

Please, no more.

[supercutts]

          ❛  actually,  i  hit  them  first.  ❜    it's  like  he's  correcting  himself,  pondering  his  very  own  aggressive  actions  back  at  the  party  the  two  had  just  ditched.  now  grayson  seeks  refuge,  far  away  from  the  chaos  he  had  caused,  fingers  brushing  gently  over  the  dark  bruises  forming  on  his  knuckles.  he  hisses  after  pressing  a  particularly  tender  spot  before  continuing.    ❛  i  don't  regret  it.  your  partner's  an  asshole.  ❜ @fruitpoem

[voidfragments]

@merrymelodymuses

well, the organization's name is right--they truly are fools. why else would dottore think it was in any way a good idea to return to sumeru? (never mind that he should have no idea that kunikuzushi knows what he did. it's easier, better, more cathartic to think that he's simply a fool.)

nahida had tried to keep him in the dark about this, and admittedly, kunikuzushi can kind of see why. after all, he did immediately race off after hearing it, flying at top speed to the nearest of the doctor's old hideouts and tearing through the place, finding it still abandoned, and moving on to the next one. the air crackles in his wake, raging winds and static threatening to kick up storms all over sumeru.

and, finally, he finds a location that isn't totally empty.

he passes the rank-and-file soldiers and mechanical guards with hardly a second thought--what threat can they possibly pose to him? they're not what he's here for.

"DOTTOREEEEE!!!" there's a snarl in his voice, growing louder as the title stretches on. "GET OUT HERE AND FACE ME!"

[sacredpit]

↳               ❛ you gonna be a good boy for me ? ❜

     sender :   @wiitchtime      /     source :   prompted     /     status :   open .

    the indelicate inquiry cuts through kakyoin’s composure ,   though only shallowly ,   evidenced solely through the halt of blinking eyes   &   the curious parting of sealed lips .   bright lavenders then raise to survey the subject placed across from him ,   her unaltered air of   confidence   wordlessly clarifying that her utterance had been in every way intentional ;   confirmation to what he’d already believed to be the case .

many bizarre things have been said to him on the job   ━━━━   the unpredictable diversity of his encounters is a premier aspect of what makes field work   thrilling ,   rival to only the adrenaline rush of combat .   but her question is unsettling in a manner   exceedingly specific ;   similar words had once been strung together   &   draped over him to elicit a reaction ,   sailing smoothly along an imperious tone all but   identical   to that in which she had just addressed him ,   albeit a taste for carnage doesn’t seem as evident upon her tongue .   

despite this ,   the images of his past flashing across his eyelids serve to remind him of   why he is here ,   rather than dredging up fears long conquered .   he is not the person he was when he first encountered dio ,   &   he hasn’t been so pathetic a creature since he faced him for the final time amid the modernity of an ancient land .   thus ,   the fact that she’d managed to sound like   him   intentionally or otherwise is more   grating   than it is distressing .

“   is that meant to be some kind of condition for you to offer information ,   ”   kakyoin starts ,   quirking a roseate brow behind his glasses ,   “   or are you making formalities ,   miss ??   ”   there’s a roundness to his tone that equips his curiosity with authenticity ,   but it exists inside the sharpness of polished intellect ,   wit .   “   either way ,   as intrigued as i am by your story   &   your connection to dio ,   i resolve to behave in whatever manner i see fit .   ”

[tobheath]

"I'd say I'm surprised to see you, but... considering you've taken over the world and are everywhere these days, kinda hard to do." Drink in hand, Tobin absently readjusted the lime sitting on the edge of her rim as she smiled up at the blonde. "You enjoying some time off after that super successful tour of yours?" // @tayalisonswifty

[naturiisms]

@fadedstarsfms // daniel, ignition kingdom

as a creature of habit, femi found herself making her way to the garage as she made a point to do a few times a month. not only was it good networking, but she'd come to consider her partners there to be at least allies, if not a skewed sort of friend. it wasn't uncommon for her to drop in unrelated to a deal, especially when she was bored and had time on her hands. walking in, her voice carried through the garage in hopes that someone would be able to keep her company for a bit. "come out, come out, wherever you are!"

[xfindingtrouble]

         “ That was quite the performance, “ Though there is a forced smile on his face, his voice does not hide the accusitory, sharp edge it holds. He had stumbled upon this travleing troupe with the rest of Vox Machina by chance. Percy had not been particularly thrilled to shove himself into a tent, shoulder to shoulder with so many strangers. But he had on occasion been a fan of theatre. Percy had been mostly unable to tell what the show was going to be about until it was too late. A bastardized telling of the tale of his family was put on display, the sort of show that had many unsuspecting audience members rolling with laughter. It had not taken Percy very long to remove himself from the tent, seething. It had been hard to believe that the slaughter of an entire family could be made into satire. Not many things caught him off guard anymore but this? This, he could have never been prepared for. 

At first he had demanded to speak to whoever was in charge. When that didn’t work, he came up with an alternative. Percy had scarcely found the time to breathe before he doubled down on finding a way to confront the actor playing himself. It had wounded him in a way he did not know quite how to swallow, leaving him with a bitter taste in his mouth. After a bit of digging, he had been successful. A trail of breadcrumbs had lead him to where he would find the actor by the end of the night. He takes a deep breath, chewing the inside of his mouth as he sticks his hands in his pants pockets, tucking his long jacket coat behind his arms. At his waist in one of his weapons, a telltale of his potential identity if the performer portraying him had done any homework. Which given the nature of the play, Percy would not be surprised if they hadn’t, “ Tell me, how familiar are you with the source material? “

@tcaleaf​ || percy for molly!

[lonehearts-a]

starter call. / @darklapse ; from jasper.

"soooooo," jasper starts, voice soft and just shy of casual indifference. he pulls his bag into his lap, flipping open the top and sorting through the various sketchbooks, fabric swatches, and his extremely decorated laptop to fish out a neatly folded plastic bag, which he immediately slides over without making eye contact. "i was thrifting the other day and found something you might like."

he almost feels embarrassed giving something akin to a gift, but, really it's just a shirt so it's harmless, right ?? after all, he's a fashion student. at some point it must be expected to get clothes from him, so it isn't weird. "it's that band you like, yeah ?? the only chemical romance i have is with my hair but i didn't want to pass it up. in case you wanted it."

[bitterseadrop-a]

⠀​​​​​​​⠀❛ with all due respect, i'm not sending my men down there for a suicide mission. you better offer me one hell of a deal, or you get the fuck out of my sight. ❜

@imarahuyo / sc.

[fartcloudfartcloud]

Do you mind doing a smut blurb about dry humping with Logan pls. I just need to read some dry humping with that man omfg

Tysm in advance you write Logan smut so well 😫😫 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Ofcourse I can lovely, and thank u so much omg im blushing. I'd do anything for this old man and if it were up to me I would have achieved atleast 1 nut on every inch of his body. you know how it is. I love writing dialogue so much, so I hope when I do it's like sexy and in character and not like ew why would he say that ykwim 😭😭😭 Also just realized u said dry humping and this is very much not dry, so if u want specifically some like over the clothes bumping and grinding I fuck with that too, just lmk 😋

Logan couldn't wrap his head around how so men come home to their beautiful girls, just to mistreat them. (he told me himself)

He couldn't imagine coming home and doing anything but pleasing whatever fresh faced beauty had burrowed their way into his heart.

Especially when that freshed faced beauty was as freshed faced and beautiful as you.

You'd fight him, shoo him away when he leers over your shoulder at your makeup routine and scold him when he's got his phone camera in your face. You'd never change his mind, no matter how hard youd try.

He didn't know how you could either, especially now when he's got you like this.

The room is hot and sticky as sounds of you and logans debauchery fill the room. The scene is nothing short of pornographic, since hes got you with your soaked core pressed into his thigh, your legs moving you in a mind numbing pattern.

Logans hands on your hips do most the work, though. He's got you pressed down in a way you're not sure you could sustain on your own, your hips locked back and clit taking most of the abuse, and it's driving you up the wall.

Your eyes are cast down, stairing at the fat of your pussy being smushed back and forth, leaving a slimy trail of slick to drip down the sides of Logans limb.

Logans eyes, however, have not left your face for a moment. You look jaw dropping like this, your head bobbing as your hands desperately grab onto whatever they can hold, your moans reaching a fever pich every time he applies just a little more force.

"You can take it, right baby?" The words don't make it past your lips, but you shakily nod and pant an audible "mhm".

"Atta girl," He praises, one hand coming up to grab your chin. He's got a goofy grin on his face, his pupils blown out and his hair falling into his face as he brings your eyes back up to his.

"There she is," His smile turns fond upon seeing your face again. His hand quickly returns to your hip and resumes his relentless assault on your core, this time his eyes locked on yours in an intimate embrace.

Not only can he smell it, but he can feel your impending climax. He can feel the way the slick is pouring from you, can feel the way your bud gets all stiff and sensitive. If nothing else, it was hard to ignore the way you shake like a leaf, your lungs void of air as it all overwhelms you.

"That's it right there, huh princess?" He asks, your voice becoming high pitched and whiney as you nod, your hands tightening on his tanktop.

"Let me see it baby. Don't take those pretty eyes off of me," He orders, picking up the pace, sprinting to bring you to your finish.

"Lo- its- mph~ i-im-" "shhh, just let it go," He whispers lowly, the sound going straight to your already buzzing center. It's not long before your eyes break his gaze, mindlessly rolling into the back of your head as the feeling consumes your body whole.

His hands don't falter, working you through your orgasm as you relentlessly shake and cry in his hands. Your face ties up, eyes now scrunched up and mouth dropped open in what is probably his favorite of all your looks.

He doesn't stop till you're twitching and squirming, whines going from orgasmic to almost painful as your whole core becomes sensitive.

"Fuck- Logan," you plead, wrapping your arms around his waist and hiding your face into your neck. You let out a deep sigh as you relax into him, feeling the waves of your release leaving you and being left with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.

He wraps his arms around you too, comforting you with his big arms and firm embrace.

"You have fun, princess?" He teases, kissing the crown of your head and pressing his face against it.

You respond with a quiet "mhm", face refusing to leave his neck.

He holds you like this, whispering soft words of so good, so pretty, my baby, into your ears and making your mind get all floaty and soft.

hope u enjoyed!! thank u for the request, keep them coming I'm having so much funnn omg

[nnight-dances]

BABYDOLL

PAIRING: choi seungcheol x afab!reader

GENRE: fluff, angst, suggestive (nothing explicit)

TROPES: gym trainer!cheol, office worker!reader, you have INFJ syndrome until you start thirsting for cheol, mutual pining and perversion, wonwoo and lisa besties to lover side plot

LISTEN TO: babydoll by dominic fike

NOTE: unfortunately yes this is based on a brainrot ive been harboring for a real man but since cheol > all other men so here is my way of coping with it! i hope u like it and lmk what u think <3

You liked to think of yourself as a sane person. If anything, you had always had a reputation of having a good head on your shoulders, as the eldest daughter and the ideal student in class. You lived a life of discipline even out of college, waking up early to clean your apartment before you headed out to work and coming back late to a fridge full of meal-prepped tupperwares. 

You're sane. So why is it that you can't bring yourself to behave like it around him?

For some context, you had decided your daily 15-minute walk to your apartment from the subway wasn't cutting it anymore. More than anything, you feel like you needed something more intense for the sake of your stiff body. You'd come home feeling creaky as floorboards and without a concrete plan to keep you in shape, you would end up doing some lousy stretching before hitting the sack.

But today that was going to change. You had enrolled as a member in the nearby gym, a solid place from the looks of it. It was your first time in a gym this fancy, equipped with the best of any machine you could imagine but also an ambient changing room where you looked forward to showering in.

You had come in fully prepared, clad in a workout set that was your favorite shade of green. When you'd pulled it out of your closet after all this time, you felt like the inanimate fabric might actually be thanking you for remembering its existence. You had an adequately sized water bottle that you had set to the side when you'd started your cardio for the day, waiting for the personal trainer the lady at the reception had told you would come meet you in 15.

At exactly the 15 minute mark on your treadmill, you'd felt a presence next to you and to your surprise, it was a man wearing the black shirt everyone working in the gym wore with a little crest on the chest. But this man was particularly… built. You didn't like to be indecent about another person when he had yet to introduce himself but the man before you was right out of your dreams– his shoulders wide, that his shirt did little to hide, and his buff arms that he politely crossed waiting for you to notice him.

You pop the earbud in your left ear out, rushing to turn the treadmill off as you turn to greet him. "Oh, I'm sorry– I didn't see you there– Wait, how did this thing stop–"

"Let me get that for you," the man – the dangerously attractive man – leaned over to press a red button that you should've spotted sooner than you did. The treadmill comes to a stop gradually and you try to think of the different ways you could vanish into thin air.

But then the trainer smiles at your panic-sriken experession revealing his dimples and you think you might faint before you'd had a chance to exercise. "Hi, I'm Seungcheol," he holds out his hand to you when you manage to step off the machine in one piece. "But you can call me Cheol." He points to the name-tag on his shirt– another detail you had missed when you were far too busy being a pervert over the general amazing-ness of his build. The name-tag says cheol in lowercase with a few hand-drawn cherries next to it. 

"I'm Y/N," you say quietly, shaking his hand. "Sorry about that, by the way. I promise I'm not usually such a klutz. It's just my first time here so I'm kinda nervous."

Cheol simply blinks at you, "Nothing wrong with being a klutz. That's why I'm here. And as for being nervous…" He looks around at the rows of people on treadmills and various other cardio machines and shrugs. "You'll get a hang of it. Just follow me."

You don't have time to stand around gaping at Cheol's words so you do as he says, especially because you would rather die than have him think you're clumsy. But despite your effort to look put-together, you find your control slipping on the first machine he brings you to. It looks like it should be simple enough, a seat with handles for back-rows. Yet, when you sit on it, you can't seem to find the right position to start and when you do, it all feels wrong.

Then, Cheol comes up behind, a hand on your lower back pushing your spine up straight. His voice is gentle in your ear and you meet his eye in the mirror in front of you. "Hold still for me. Throw your shoulders back and focus on pulling with your back." 

You do as he says and he gives you a nod of approval. "Remember to breathe," he says, his fingers now on your shoulders, pulling them back to keep them in the right posture. When you're done with the first set, you feel like you've forgotten how to breathe.

"You must be an office-worker," Cheol comments as he lets you take a minute to breathe. 

"You say that like it's a bad thing," you frown.

"It's not the best thing for a person's spine. Makes for a stiff spine and whatnot."

You grimace when his words seem to describe you. "You're right. I can't sit with my spine straight for the life of me. Those back-rows almost sucked the life out of me."

"Then I hope you're ready for two more sets," Cheol chuckles, politely grabbing your precious water bottle out of your hands. "Two more sets," you repeat after him, praying that he actually meant no more sets and said the wrong thing. But he stares at you in the mirror, arms crossed, waiting for you to take your position.

By the time, you're done for the day, you think you might have seen God, with the way Cheol pushes you through the workout, throwing sets of shoulder presses and plank holds at you. He must hate you, you think, wiping the sweat off your neck with a hand towel as you watch him write something down on a notepad you only just noticed. You've been really out of it today, huh?

Still, Cheol's disdain for you aside, you couldn't help but marvel at him. His body was so lithe, lifting weights off the floor for you without a huff and demonstrating the exercises you had to do while narrating the movements like it was nothing. What's more, he had this amazing air of authority about him, not letting you give up on an exercise just because you felt like you couldn't do it. If the last set got physically impossible for you, he'd give you a hand but he didn't let you do anything half-earnestly. In short, he's really fucking cool.

You come to your senses when Cheol says, "All right, that's all for today. Thanks for the hard work." You nod, "Thanks, Cheol." You don't have it in you to say anything about the workout, mainly because you're embarrased at how weak you are so you simply smile an awkward smile and leave the room. 

God knows you were the worst version of yourself in there, the complete opposite of the composed woman you were on the outside. It was mortifying, honestly, to be that helpless and in front of a man you were attracted – that might have been your greatest nightmare realized into reality. 

Which is why you find yourself at the gym a day later, taking a deep breath before greeting the lady. "Hey, I'm here for my PT session," you start and then clearing your throat, you add, "With trainer Cheol?"

The lady looks surprised when she sees you for a split second but then she grins. "Of course, miss L/N. You're just on time." She types rapidly for another second before nodding at you, "Okay, you can start your 15 minutes of cardio and the trainer will meet you there."

You thank her before heading in, finding it a little strange that she looked surprised to see you but shrugging it off when you're welcomed by the lavender-scented changing room. You note to yourself to start buying more scented candles for your house as you place your bag and hoodie in a locker, taking just your bottle out. 

You're a minute from finishing your cardio for the day when you hear your name being called. You turn to find Cheol staring at you with an indecipherable glint in his eyes. His arms are crossed, almost like a signature pose on a game character, muscles glistening under the bright gym lights. You stop the treadmill successfully this time as you wave at him, "Hey!"

"...You're back?"

You frown when you hear the question in his voice, "Yeah? Is that not what I'm supposed to do?"

"I mean…"

"I didn't come in yesterday because I woke up feeling like someone beat me up," you add with a pointed look, "But I think you'll forgive me if your customer retention is that low."

Cheol blinks with a smile gradually consuming his expression. "It's not that– I just didn't expect you to come back because you looked mad when you left last time. And well, office-workers are usually inconsistent so I definitely didn't think I'd see you twice in the same week…"

You cross your arms to match his pose, "I wasn't mad, I was a breath away from dropping dead."

"Right, that makes sense," Cheol agrees proudly and you shake your head, "And you must have a grudge against office-workers."

"I don't. All my friends are office-workers. I've just watched the job suck out all the life out of them so I'm not a fan."

"I think you may have defined the word grudge just now," you point out with a poorly disguised laugh.

Cheol pauses before looking you up and down with a cocked brow. "Someone's in a feisty mood today. I like that, it means you're ready for leg day."

You were not ready for leg day. You used to think that your legs would be strong enough since you'd done your share of squatting and running in your lifetime but faced with Cheol's insane workout set-up, you should've seen this coming. It starts off fine– a normal cycle of squats and lunges. But then he adds weights to the equation, increasing it after each set. Then, he takes you to the machines and makes sure you do each rep right. You have a hard time even walking over to the bench where he wants you to hip thrusts. 

For a moment, Cheol's eyes betray softness. "You good? We can stop here if you want."

But for all your groaning and heaving, you weren't quite ready to give up yet, the adrenaline doing wonders to your head. "I can stop when I'm dead. Just tell me what to do next."

Cheol perks up at your challenge, "Okay, soldier, calm your horses. We'll do some hip thrusts now but let's start slow."

"You don't have to take it easy on me," you add, taking the barbell from his hands. He smiles, "Don't worry about that, I'm just getting started." You swallow the viscerality of the reaction that rises at his words and force yourself to get into the right position. Cheol must know what he's doing, towering over you with that nefarious smirk, monitoring your movements strictly while instructing you how exactly to maintain your form. 

With your eyes fixed on him, you can't help but feel your mind wander, far beyond your control. You can't blame yourself– this angle is sinful. He looks so delectable with his arms crossed across his chest as usual and legs steadily placed close to yours on the ground in case he had to help you out. You wonder what he's like under the trackpants he sports, about his thighs and what they'd feel like under your palm. You wonder what he'd sound like–

You slip mid-rep with your grip on the barbell going loose and you yelp out as the weight bounces dangerously. Cheol's arm flash before you sight, swiftly grabbing the barbell before it hit your shin, throwing it aside with a loud clank. A few people working out near you give you concerned glances but all you can do is heave out a breathe at the sight of Cheol crouched so close to you.

He hauls you with one brawny arm behind your back, holding you close to his face so he could inspect you. "Are you okay?" he asks you gravely, eyes scanning your torso and then going down your legs.

You must be truly sick because even in this situation, you're thrilled. Absolutely thrilled. Because you're so close to Cheol you can feel his breath against your hot neck and you finally have an excuse to paw against his chest, and feel the sinewy warmth under his shirt. 

"I'm fine," you muster, mouth unbelievably dry and Cheol takes the wideness of your gaze to be fear. He rests your body back against the bench and you mourn the loss of his touch silently. But then he presses the back of his hand against your cheek and then pats your head. 

"You're fine," he repeats your words but with more conviction, a reassurance. "You scared the shit out of me." You breathe out a chuckle, "Sorry. You'd get into trouble if I got injured under your watch right?"

Cheol stares at you. "That's what you're worried about? Not that you almost lost a leg and a half just now?"

You look away with a flushed face. "No, I was never worried about that. I knew you'd catch it before anything happened."

"You should be more worried, then," he responds with a shake of his head, "I'm not perfect. I won't make it every single time."

"Sorry," you sigh, "I'll be more careful." You're quick to give in, especially because you could not stand the reason behind this mess. 

You leave after that with Cheol firmly refusing to go on, with something about not taking more chances. You sense something akin to disappointment in his words and feel a pit in your stomach as you head home. You'd started to bond with him finally, with your determination to show up, but this felt like it put you back to square one. Cheol, as reliable as he was, seemed reluctant to open up to you and where he'd finally started to warm up to you, your slip-up today probably reminded you that you were a customer who he needed to train.

Your sleep is fitful that night because you can't stop thinking about your accident. Can't stop thinking what might have happened if you didn't mess up. And then you picture Cheol and his watchful gaze over you the whole time you're there. God, you feel crazy. 

–

"What's crazy is that I got a whole box of them for 20 bucks on sale!" Lisa exclaims. You nod at her anecdote about scoring extremely cheap protein powder that slightly concerned you about the quality of the product your co-worker was consuming. Lisa had caught you that afternoon in the lunch room, awkwardly stretching out your legs. When she grilled you about it, you'd revealed your recent gym membership and the consequent soreness.

"I've heard drinking lemon coffee before workouts is really helpful," she adds with an excited grin. Lisa, as it turns out, was a huge gym rat. "And oh, don't ever go to the gym if you haven't slept at least a good 8 hours."

"What?" 

"Yeah, lack of sleep combined with exertion is a nightmare for your body."

You tap your nail on the table nervously, worried that would mean you couldn't go to the gym today. Just then, Wonwoo enters the break room with a knowing chuckle. "What bullshit is Lisa feeding you this time, Y/N?"

"Hey!" Lisa protests, "I'm just sharing my years of advice with her since she just started the gym." Your glares at Lisa go unnoticed as she goes ahead and reveals your newest hobby to the man.

You groan, "You make it sound like such a big deal. It's not, I'm just finding ways to keep myself occupied."

"You must be getting old," Wonwoo says as he slides into a chair next to you. "But if I know anything about the gym, it's that it'll keep you young. Especially with the guys that you'll see there."

You stare at Wonwoo, "What the fuck is wrong with you guys? I can't have one normal conversation around here." The man simply elbows you with a chesire grin, "Oh, come on, Y/N. You're always so proper and put-together, it makes me think you're not even living your life."

You go silent, ears redenning at his words. "Wonwoo, that's a little rude," Lisa accuses him, "Y/N's the coolest member of our team, how could disrespect–"

"I'm not, I just mean that you've achieved most of your goals now," he shrugs, "But you probably have a side that you always keep in check. Maybe you should let go a little?"

– 

For all your attempts at ignoring Wonwoo's unsolicited advice, you end up thinking about it the whole day. And the next, when you make your way back to the gym. You're a little reluctant to, given you were still embarrassed about your incident last time. But stupid Wonwoo and his way with words. 

You found yourself overthinking your outfit for the day, ending up wearing a baby blue sports bra with a strappy back and black sweatpants. You had to admit that it was quite flattering on your figure, with your back tattoo on display, one that said babydoll in a cursive font, a reference to one of your favorite songs and just generally, a cheeky nudge to whoever was reading in the direction of your preferences. 

Today, you spot Cheol across the cardio room but with another client, a tall blonde woman who was jogging leisurely at a speed that would have you gasping for breath. She looked like she was in great shape, a flat stomach revealed by her cropped bra and an ass for days that her shorts accentuated. Cheol looked so different than when he was with you, eyes smiling as he continuously hyped the girl up, a proud beam on his face. You don't think you'd even seen all his teeth on display before. 

You force yourself to take a treadmill where you can't see him, turning the music on your earbuds all the way up to get your head straight. But every song you listen to reminds you of him. You ignore it anyway, increasing the speed on your treadmill when you catch a glimpse of him escorting the lady out. He really looked like he was enjoying himself, laughing loudly at something she says in a soft voice. She was in a league of her own. Heck, so was Cheol.

The reminder is unpleasant and you have a hard time putting on a smile when Cheol comes to stand at your side with an expectant grin. But in comparison to before, this grin seems dull and his eyes look like they're calculating something, not delighted. You had a feeling this was going to be another difficult session for you.

"That's a nice outfit," he comments when you turn around to him, covered in sweat from your jealousy-driven run. You don't respond to his compliment, feeling like it was empty and honestly, losing your will to please him after what you'd witnessed. You get off the treadmill with a sigh and roll your shoulders back, "What am I doing today?"

Cheol hesitates for a split second at your curtness but moves on quickly, guiding you to the dumbbells. "Arms and back for the lady today," he announces grandly, handing you two dumbbells labelled 10 lbs. You raise your brows at him, wondering if his decision had anything to do with your exceptionally bare back. Reigning in your curiosity, you do as he says.

The first few sets of various basic exercises go by well, so much so that you catch Cheol mumbling a good job in your ear when you pass him the dumbbells. The compliment goes straight to your head – and well, elsewhere – but you control your thoughts, not when you were finally feeling like yourself and not like a perverted idiot lusting over your hot hym trainer.

But then you're at the back-row machine and you lose your drive, glancing uneasily at Cheol. He simply gestures for you to get started. "You know the drill" are his brief words of explanation. 

The first set goes by okay with you struggling to finish the last rep but by the time you're in the middle of the second set, you feel a numbing strain in your back, making it a Herculean task to even tug at the handles. You spot Cheol walking over behind you and the pads of his fingers press into your back, somehow landing exactly where the fabric of your bra left you exposed.

Your eyes jump to his in the mirror, the contact sending a wave of heat to all kinds of places and feeling incredibly inappropriate for some reason. Cheol's eyes remain unyielding when you meet them though, his grip extending to your shoulder to pull them back. "Come on," his words splay out like breath on your neck, "Keep going."

You manage the last few reps with his help, groaning in pain when he finally lets you go. He pulls away as soon as you're done, sqaushing any hopes that you had of him sharing the vibe that you had felt. He even takes a large step away to give you air before the next round. You pout as you closely observe him in the mirror, wondering why he was so cold to you. He had seemed warmer a few days ago when you'd shown up to contradict his expectation, maybe even warmer than he had been with that lady earlier. So how come he's back to being distant now?

"Something on your mind?" Cheol asks, coming to your side, "You've been glaring at me for the past minute."

"Nothing."

"Really? You've been weird this whole time you know," he presses. "It's my duty to make sure you're satisfied as my client. So if I'm doing anything wrong…"

You sigh at his words. Satisfied, huh? If Cheol had even the slightest hint to your thoughts every time you were close to him– God, he'd probably drop you as a client altogether. "I'm fine," you say quietly, looking down at your hands instead of at him. You were doing so well at keeping it together and you didn't want to lose your progress to some whim. "Just tired from work."

"Have you been sleeping okay?"

"As okay as I can."

"Have you considered asking for a day off?"

You scoff, "I'm not on my death bed. A few hours of lost sleep won't kill me."

"It will in the long run," Cheol retorts, lips set in a thin line, "And that's the second time you've talked about dying before giving up with me."

You're starting to wish he would stop with his questions. "I'm not suicidal, Cheol," you start, "And I'm not losing sleep because of work anyway."

"Oh, really? What is then? A guy?"

You scowl at his words, "I'd rather not talk about this anymore. It's not funny."

"Didn't say it was," he mumbles but returns to his stance behind you. You feel his palm on your back again, "Let's go for the last set, then."

You pull hard, getting in a few good reps before your back muscles start to give up again. Cheol's in action, forcing your muscles to stay engaged as you continue pulling him. "Breathe for me, doll, you're doing so well. Just five more reps." Forget the fact that you'd done your required 20 reps of the back rows, when you hear Cheol's praise you feel your energy spike up, somehow pulling off 5 more reps. 

He lets go with a chuckle, "I knew you had it in you." You slump over, dropping your head in your hands, reeling. Did you hear him right? Doll? Your stomach turns with butterflies, the thought of him using your tattoo exactly in the way you'd intended – fuck, you think you could give the man the best head of his life right now if he let you.

But instead you pretend to be wiped out as you stand up without making any eye contact with him, crouching over your water bottle and taking a few sips. You realized that Cheol was being himself with you, now that you think about it, his sarcastic jabs and his cynical questioning. He was worried about you but didn't want to burden you with it. But to think that you'd managed to get him to praise you despite his aloofness, it made you want to do unthinkable things.

"All right, let's do some shoulder presses next," Cheol says, deciding you'd had enough of a break. You silently nod, following him to the bench. Surprisingly enough, you make it through the rest of the workout without a hitch, even earning yourself an approving hoot from Cheol along the way.

"You're on fire today, aren't you?" he beams and you want to imprint the sight in your mind. "Come on, I'll have do some good stretching today so you won't wake up feeling like someone beat you up again."

You chuckle at the reference to your earlier comment and gladly follow him to the mats where he guides you through some stretches. Then he perches himself in front of you, holding out his hands. "Give me your hands."

You look at him questioningly and he simply waits. Slowly, you put your hands in his, noticing the way his wrap around yours completely. He's big compared to you, easily pulling you toward him while keeping his feet planted above your knees so you could stretch your spine out. You let out a moan at the feeling in your spine, "That feels good."

His hand wrap around your wrist next, resting them on his shoulders– and you swear to God, he's got to be doing this to you on purpose. All you can think about is his skin under your palms, the hard shoulders that you didn't imagine you'd be touching. He continues to mess with you; his hands are on your shins, massaging their way up your legs– your calves, your knees, your thighs. 

You pull away with abruptly and his hands dance back down your legs. Cheol's looking up at you with hooded eyes, as if he can read every thought that's running through your head. "Good?" he asks and the vague nature of the question does nothing to help your situation.

You clear your throat, "Yes. Am I done for the day?" 

Cheol makes you suffer through some more stretches, ones where he finds an excuse to get his hands on you– an arm stretch with him pulling you from one side or a back stretch where he crossed your arms down firmly. Your head was all but spinning when you're finally done.

"Okay, you're done. Thanks for the session," he exclaims and as you turn to leave, he stops you with a hand on your elbow. "Oh and– Listen, I don't know what's on your mind but don't worry so much. You're doing great, at least in the gym. Sleep well tonight, doll."

– 

The only explanation for Cheol's behavior was that he hated you. Because why else would he enjoy torturing you like this? You had never thought you showing up mad to a session would lead to him doing all that– calling you doll of all things. You had all sorts of thoughts in your head right now and none of them you could voice out loud without embarrassing yourself. 

That night, you do sleep well, a little too well even. You have sweet dreams after all, dreaming of Cheol in your bed, climbing up your relaxed figure while his hands trailed up your legs, not stopping at your thighs. They make it all the way and the sound that leaves you is undignified but Cheol meets your mouth like he predicted your reaction. His touch burns you and his tongue leaves you feeling like you were starving. You sweat in his arms, his words sending you over the edge in no time.

You wake up the next morning to a mess in your panties, the sight leaving you truly dumbfounded. If you had thought you had come close to regaining your sanity in the last few days, you might just have lost any such hope. You rush to shower, making it cold on purpose so you could cleanse any dirty thoughts away with the remains of last night.

But Cheol's hold on you is strong, even when he isn't forcing you to go through the last few reps of an exercise. You enter the office in a daze that day, going about your daily tasks without a real thought behind your eyes. 

It's only when you overhear a conversation in the break room that you come to your senses.

"I'm thinking of changing my hair," Kazuha tells Katie with a thoughtful hum, "But I don't know what to do." You gaze at the younger girls in front of you. Kazuha had long hair the shade of mocha and Katie sported a short blonde bob that bounced when she peeked over her friend's shoulder to look at her phone.

"Oh, you know what you would suit? Blonde streaks!"

"Really?" Kazuha sounds dubious, "I don't know. I'm more of a dark hair girl."

"I know, that's why I said streaks, stupid," Katie pulls out her phone and scrolls through something that looks like an album of hair pictures. "Something like this– Just your bangs, or the ends of your hair."

Intrigued by the conversation, you approach the pair. "Hey, guys," you let yourself known and the two nod quickly when they see you.

"Oh, hi, Y/N!"

"Sorry to interrupt, but I… I had a question."

Katie looks excited, leaning forward with a sneaky grin. "Sure! What is it? Are you seeing someone?"

"What? No, that's not it," you protest, uneasily playing with your mug. "Um, actually, I was… this is a completely hypothetical question, okay?" The two nod eagerly. "If I was to know a guy who was a gym rat of sorts… What kinds of things would you say might interest him?"

"Interest him?" Kazuha says, "Aren't gym rats only into other gym rats?"

"Yeah, I think so, too," Katie echoes, "When you live for the gym, you'd only want a partner who understands the lifestyle. But I did have this friend…"

She trails off and you prod, "A friend?"

"Well, she had a crush on this guy at her gym so she tried to get his number and he–" she cuts herself off with a light laugh, "He said she was too plain. God, he was an asshole. My friend had the latest hairstyle and everything. She cried over him for a week. I told her not to spend so much money on the membership if she was just going there for a guy…"

You nod, "Right… That sounds awful." Eventually, Kazuha and Katie go back to discussing something on their phones and you excuse yourself. 

–

You don't go to the gym for the rest of that week, mainly because you're afraid to see Cheol, still not over the wet dream you'd had of him. Thankfully, there hadn't been any more but just the one occurence had you feeling like you'd committed a crime so you stayed away to keep your conscience clean. 

A week later, you finally force yourself out of your guilty spiral and head to the gym. At the reception, you pause before heading in for cardio. "Hey, Seol," you call out and she looks up from the computer. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"No, please, ask away."

"Is… Does Cheol have a lot of clients?"

Seol looks amused at your question and takes her time riling you up before saying, "Yes, ma'am. He's one of the top trainers in our gym. Sometimes, we have clients asking to switch over to be trained by him because they see him training other people."

"Ah, I see," you say, keeping your tone as flat as possible, "And can I ask how I ended up with him?"

"Oh, well, it was just good timing," Seol says with a polite smile, "He had a client leave after she got promoted at work so you joining worked perfectly."

You nod at her response, thanking her as you head in. So it was just luck. 

You don't know what you had expected– Of course, Cheol was popular. You weren't the only one with eyes around here and looks aside, he was genuinely great at his job. You didn't take that for granted but it didn't help the pit in your stomach, when you realized you were just a replacement client on his roster. 

Great. You've been in the gym for less than 10 minutes and the crazies have already started. 

To make things even worse, you see Cheol next to another woman yet again. This time she's short, a petite figure with long wavy hair and you almost laugh out loud at the situation. Someone must be playing a sick joke on you because how else was every single one of his clients so much prettier than you? 

You have to restrain your thoughts before they dig you any deeper in a hole of self-depreciation so you pick out a treadmill away from them. 

"Evening, doll," Cheol pipes up next to you, voice cheery as he pats your arm. You contain yourself as you stop your jog and get off. "Do you have to call me that?" you throw, giving him your best icy stare.

He simply grins, "What? Doll? But it's a cute name."

"I already have a name," you cut in, "And someone might get the wrong idea if they heard you."

Cheol regards you with a glint in his eye. What you would do to hear his thoughts. "There's nothing to get wrong," he finally says, "So don't worry."

If anything, his words are a harsh slap of reality. It brings you back to earth effectively so maybe you ought to thank him for it. You make it through that workout without an indecent though– well, okay, there might have been a few but nothing that was enough to put you in a life-threatening position. In fact, you make it through a whole week's worth of sessions with those words.

It's Friday when it all goes down the drain– your hard work at regaining normality with Cheol and your sanity. You're done for the day and in the middle of packing up, when you see Cheol being approached by a woman. Looking up, you realize it's the tall blonde from a few weeks ago. She speaks quickly and quietly but you hear the words drinks on me tonight. 

Your stomach churns and you look away without thinking, hoping to run away before you had to hear any more. But Cheol's voice is clear when he responds, "Sorry, I can't. I'm busy tonight."

You hate the way you're relieved at his rejection, the lack of any remorse in his tone and the way he quickly turns back to you. The blonde woman looks dejected and blinks at his back a few times before leaving. 

"Wow," you comment when she's gone, "That was cold."

"You think so?" he asks as if it wasn't clear as day. "I was just making myself clear."

"So you have a no-client dating policy?"

"Nah, not really," Cheol shrugs as he rolls up the mat you had used a few minutes ago. "Plus, she's not even my client anymore."

"Oh," you breathe and then feel a sudden burst of courage run through your veins. "So if I was to ask you out…"

Cheol tilts his head, lips lilting, "What about you asking me out?"

Asshole, of course he's making you spell it out for him. You bite back a smile, "Nothing. Just a thought." With that, you leave him hanging, exiting the gym as if you hadn't proposed to take him out on a date without any real conclusion. 

It was complicated, you explain to yourself later. For one, you didn't even think he was into you like that. Sure, he could be touchy and flirty around you when he wanted you, and yeah, maybe he didn't call you anything other than doll, but in real terms, those actions had no meaning behind them. They were just that. 

And you didn't enjoy putting yourself out like that– asking someone else out. It had always been the other way around, the guys asking you out after days of you charming them. And where you'd always been anything but yourself with Cheol, you weren't ready to let go of your reputation just yet. 

– 

Maintaining your reputation takes on a questionable turn that weekend when you pass a hair salon on your way home from shopping for some much-needed home supplies. You stop because the sign outside catches your eye. In flashy bubble letters, it reads GYU'S SALON: come by if you want to rediscover your wild side. You find yourself smiling, hand on the door before you have a second to debate it. 

Someone at the counter welcomes you and asks you to wait for a moment while they grab a stylist. You take a seat on the couch and look inside the salon. It's not too packed but there's a few customers, most of them women. You see that most of them are young and the observation comforts you. In particular, you notice a girl taking selfies with her new styled hair– a short layered look with blue ends. It looked cool but too bright for you to pull off. 

A kind-looking lady with hair the color of plum approaches you. "Hello, are you here for a hair styling session?" 

You stand up, "Ah, yeah, I am. Sorry, I don't have an appointment."

"That's fine, I'm free now," she says with a smile, "You must've seen the sign." You don't how she knows but you simply smile back at her. She nods, "Okay, come with me." 

The lady's named April, you find out, and she's the funniest person you've met in a while. She's also an expert in hair, it seems, because she can tell the last time you cut your hair was neary two years ago and even points out that you wash your hair every other day. Eventually, you tell her you want to do something different with your hair but nothing too crazy.

"Define crazy."

"Well, this is my first time dying my hair. But I don't want anything too light and please don't cut my hair too short."

"Gosh, you sure have a lot of demands." Then after a moment of running her hands through your hair, playing with its strands, she comes to a decision. "All right, missy, I have something in mind for you."

Two hours later,  you have red hair but not too red. It was the exact shade of wine under the salon lights but when you stepped out of the salon, it was more a dark brown. You'd thanked and tipped April generously for her work because she had come through on her word. In the mirror back at home, you admired your hair. April had trimmed off the ends but made sure your hair retained its length. You didn't regret your decision when you had a whole night to overthink it, thrilled whenever you caught sight of your head in a reflective surface. April might have been God's sweet gift to you. 

– 

That week you're showered in compliments at work with a coworker stopping at your desk every time they realized it was you sitting there typing away in red hair. You'd been somewhat worried that the change wasn't drastic enough for many to notice but you're proven wrong. Kazuha is the first one you run into that day, meeting her in the elevator and it takes her a glance to notice the new hair.

"Y/N? Your hair is so pretty!" she's spinning you around so she can get a better look, "Oh my God, where'd you get it done? It's amazing."  You thank her and vaguely describe the salon you'd found by chance. 

Later that evening, you walk unusually slow to the gym, taking your time to dwell on the response you might get from Cheol. You're close to the entrance when you see a familiar figure a few feet away. Before you can confirm your suspicion, you also spot an unmissable head of blonde hair.

It's her again. You feel your heart lurch in your chest as you unwittingly stop in your tracks. She's talking to Cheol, her back to you. If it wasn't for the expression on Cheol's face being a clear one of panic, you might have walked your way without a worry (other than the ones that would've spurred out of jealousy). You aproach them cautiously, wanting to get a better understanding of the situation before interfering.

"...is just mean. You led me on! You told me I was–"

"I'm sorry, Haein, if you feel that way but that's just part of my job," Cheol's voice is strained with suppressed emotions and you speed up, "I need you to stop cornering me–"

"Cheol!" you call out loudly, causing both of them to turn towards you. The blonde, Haein apparently, looks annoyed to find you there and you quietly walk over to Cheol's side. He's quiet when you poke him with your elbow. "What're you doing out here? You're gonna be late to my session!"

"Excuse me, miss, but I was in the middle of–"

"I'm sorry but I pay this guy an unbelievable amount of money to train me," you say in your most obsequious voice, "and I work really hard for the money I make. So unless you're about to pay me more than I pay him just to talk to him, why don't we call it a day here?"

When Haein storms off with a few unintelligible curses your way, you let out a laugh of disbelief. Cheol releases a chuckle from beside you, sighing in relief. "That was–" he starts, "Thanks, Y/N. You saved my ass."

"No worries," you reply, "but I wasn't entirely kidding about what I said. You start showing up late to our sessions and I'll start cutting the paycheck."

"You realize that's not how it works, right? You have to pay the same amount of–"

"I don't care how it works, Cheol," you interrupt him.

"For what it's worth," you hear him say as the two you finally enter the gym through its glass doors. "You were pretty cool back there. I felt so safe and protected with you throwing so many big words at her."

You turn to him with a frown, "Big words? I just talked really fast so she couldn't afford to call my bluff."

Cheol laughs at your confession, "It worked. She looked spooked when she finally ran off."

"So she's been bothering you even after you rejected her?"

"Yeah, looks like she thought we had a thing," he mumbles, "but all I did was my job and there's no nicer way to put it."

You grimace, waving at Seol who perks up at the sight of you arriving with Cheol. "That's tough. You should do something about it. I won't always be around to save the day, you know?"

"You're right," Cheol teases, "I need to become independent."

You pause in front of the changing room, "Okay, I'll go put my things away–"

Cheol breaks you off when he takes a step too close to you, voice dropping to a whisper. "Your hair's cute, doll. I'm a lucky man to have a pretty girl like you worry about me."

And then, he's gone with a flash of his smirk. As if he hadn't just left your veins blazing with the rush his words had caused. You drop to your knees inside the changing room, legs weaker than a day of working them out under Cheol's supervision. There's just no way he isn't messing with you on purpose, right?

But then you recall his words from earlier– all I did was my job and there's no nicer way to put it – and you're not so sure anymore. On the one hand, it was objectively not part of his job to call you doll or to have his hands wander your body or to constantly pester you with questions when you seemed out of it or to call you pretty. But at the same time, you couldn't say it was just him being nice to you, making sure you didn't feel unseen. 

Your worries find an answer later that day when you're leaving the changing room after another training session. Cheol intercepts you with a look that you've never seen before– uncertainty.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Yeah, sure, what's up?" you let him pull you aside to a more secluded area behind the reception.

"I know you're too humble to take it seriously but I really do owe you one for earlier," Cheol rubs the back of his neck, a boyish grin on his face, "If you hadn't sepped in, I might have had to agree to go out with her."

"Cheol," you sigh, "I just did that because you looked uncomfortable. You don't have to thank–"

"Thanking you isn't enough," he stresses, "I want to repay you."

You cross your arms, the phrasing of his request piquing your curiosity. "And how exactly do you want to repay me?"

"Let me take you out for dinner."

You hate the way your eyes betray surprise at his words, his pleased smile only doing wonders to the adrenaline rush that slapped you. "What?"

"I know a good place near here but it'll be packed today," Cheol pulls out his phone out of his pants, "But if I make a reservation, we'll be able to get in this week."

"I…"

"Is that a yes?" his eyes are focused on yours, waiting for an answer.

"Sure, but is it okay for us to…?" you find yourself unable to complete your question. "Why wouldn't it be?" Cheol tilts his head, "We're both adults and it's consensual."

"I guess you're right," you admit. Cheol places his phone in front of you, "Your number, doll."

– 

If you had thought you were insane a few weeks ago, now you were convinced that you were. Ever since you'd exchanged numbers with Cheol, all you could do was stare at his contact. You'd gone simple, just saving him as Cheol, not before you considered adding a cherry emoji next to his name. It was too much, you decided, settling for the plain name instead.

"Whose murder is she planning this time?" 

Wonwoo's question brings you out of your daze and you glare at him. "Yours if you don't shut the fuck up."

"Woah," Wonwoo holds up his hands in surrender, glancing at Lisa, "You sure she isn't up to something?"

"She's got a date tonight," Lisa reveals without a hint of hestitation in her voice. You kick the girl under the table, "Lisa! You're just gonna sell me out like that?"

"Sorry, Y/N, but I have a 100% honesty policy with Woo," she sighs, looking at Wonwoo dreamily. Right, you had almost forgotten. After months of pining for each other, the two had finally confessed to each other, becoming the office's newest couple. It was very sweet and also very inconvenient when you wanted to confide in your best friend.

"Remind me to get a new and single best friend," you murmur to yourself. Wonwoo drags a chair across from you, "So who's the lucky guy?"

"There is no guy. Just a funeral. For you."

"You're so funny today, Y/N," Wonwoo has the audacity to laugh, "Is it someone from your gym? No wonder you've been looking leaner these days. A little extra motivation to hit the gym can go a long way."

"I don't know why I bother hiding things anymore," you cave, "and for the record, it's not because of any guy that I'm getting fitter."

You find yourself doubting your own words that night when you're sitting across from the man, keeling over in laughter at something he said about the menu in this place. It's a unique restaurant with moody lighting and square tables for two scattered across the wooden floors. Most of the tables were already filled with couples, peering over a menu together and sharing a glass of wine. 

It's unnervingly romantic, you realize as you sit, tucking the tail of your dress under you. Cheol's eyes never leave you, weighing your reactions to the place. "It's so quiet here," you whisper, still surveying your surroundings, feeling hot under his undivided attention. You hadn't been prepared to be this close. Sure, you had been closer to him in the gym but this was your first time with him in a place outside of the gym, where you couldn't pretend your feelings for him were part of an alter ego you'd made up. 

Cheol is real right now, his knees brushing against your bares ones under the table. He looks different tonight, clad in a nice navy shirt whose buttons were unsuprisingly strained against his chest. It was unfair how attractive he looked in a plain outfit. 

"You like wine?" 

You look at him with a start and nod quickly, "Yeah, I do."

"And what about me?" Cheol sneaks the question in, teeth baring as he grins at your panicked expression. "I'm just kidding. Sorry, I can't help it. You're cute when you're embarrassed."

"And you're just as much of an asshole when you're not in the gym."

He shrug, defined collarbone peeking out at you at the movement. "I'm always myself," he tells you. 

The night progresses slowly with Cheol taking his time getting to know you, raining you in question after question about your life– when did you start working? Did you have siblings? Why did you move to the city so young? How many exes did you have? What was your favorite kind of coffee?

"You have a dog?" you exclaim when he shows you a photo of a white Maltese with a doting smile on his face. You hit his arm across the table, "Why wasn't that the first thing you told me?"

Cheol laughs with his head thrown back, "Really? That's what gets you? My dog? I'd take you to meet her but she's living with my brother because I got too busy."

"She's so cute, Cheol! I didn't think you of all people would have a dog."

"What do you mean, me of all people?"

You pause before thinking over your words. "You seem… distant. I thought you would like living alone so nobody bothers you."

Cheol sighs at your words, "What have I done for you to have such an impression of me?"

"I don't know, something about the way you're always cynical? Or your general condescending tone? Or that one time when you told me you hated your friends for being office-workers?"

"Okay, so you clearly like exaggerating things," he protests, "I love my friends, I just wish they lived more. And I'm not cynical, just…"

"Realistic?" you finish his sentence, "Trust me, that's what I tell people, too. But it's all a lie."

"You have a lot to say for someone who actually lives all by herself," Cheol accuses you with a sip of his wine, eyes narrowing, "And I feel like you're way colder than I am. It took me a week to get you to start calling me by my name and not just wait for me to look at you when you needed something."

You groan, "Can you not bring that up? I'm still embarrassed about that."

"Cute," he chirps, "But seriously, you're kinda scary when you're in your head. I get the chills when I imagine what you must be like at work."

"You imagine what I'm like at work?" you tease him, leaning back in your chair. 

"You're the one who's telling me you're not like this at work," he points out, "Whatever that means."

"It means I'm cool as a cucumber," you finally say, "I'm a little scary but only to people who deserve it. But I'm mostly just cool. Or at least I was."

Cheol waits for you to go on and you scrape at your empty plate with a fork, missing the pasta you had just devoured just so you could distract yourself. "I was cool before I… met you, I guess."

"Really?" Cheol does nothing to hide the glad grin that breaks out on his face, "What did I do?"

"Pushed me to my limit," you roll your eyes, "You forced me out of my comfort zone."

"So in other words, I bring out your wild side?"

You flush at his choice of words, "Well, I don't know if I'd say that but… maybe."

–

Your date with Cheol is a dream; he pays for the meal, walks you out with a hand on your waist. He even kisses you goodnight, a kiss that's on your mind for the longest time. His lips are beyond your dreams, plump and demanding on yours. It's too bad neither of you make another move because the night ends at a kiss. 

You can't wait to see him again, but as it turns out the following week means hell for you at work. You're absolutely swamped in your new assignments, with it being the middle of the month. There's increased visits from superiors and your boss insists you attend every meeting, a gesture that promised you that a promotion was in sight. 

It's that hope that keeps you going. You pull a few all-nighters to draft various proposals now that you're your boss' direct right-hand, working earnestly to improve the stellar performance that you were finally getting recognition for. It's on Friday evening that your boss finally notices the bags under your eyes, scolding you for pushing yourself hard. She rushes you out of the office, ordering you to take the day off or she'd force you to. 

You reluctantly do as she says, feeling hollow when you step outside in the fresh air. Your eyes feel heavy and you can't say you feel like doing much. Then, you remember Cheol's touch on your skin and with rejuvenated enthusiasm, you take your phone out. 

You consider texting him but then settle on calling him since he'd be too busy to check his messages. But as it turns out, he's too busy to pick up too. After some thinking, you decide you'd pay him a visit in the gym anyway, ignoring the lightheaded feeling that threatened to consume you. 

Seol greets you at the counter, "Y/N! We missed you this week! Are you okay?"

You sigh, "Yeah, sorry. Work stuff. Is Cheol in?" She nods, much to your relief. "Yeah, he's just finishing up with a client. He should be free for a session in 10."

You thank her as you head in. You knew it wasn't the best idea to work out in this state, but all you could suddenly think about was how Cheol might've taken your absence for the week to be your response to the date. And you hated the thought of that, so you rush to the changing room. 

You're 5 minutes into walking on the treadmill when Cheol's familiar presence makes itself known. "Y/N?"

"Cheol, hey," you say, slowing down, "Sorry I wasn't in this whole week, I've been really busy with work."

"That's fine, I figured it'd be something like that." You're surprised he takes it so well, even offering you a small smile. Then, he notices the way you look, eyebags and all. "Hey, doll, are you okay? You look tired."

"Oh, I'm fine, just a little out of it."

"Okay, why don't you take a rest?" He stops the machine before you have a say, his arm firmly pulling you off. His hand then comes to rest against your cheek and you smile against his touch. "You're warm, doll. I don't think you should be working out today."

"But–"

"I don't want to hear it," he's pulling you out of the cardio room without hearing you out. "Come with me. Is there a friend you can call to pick you up?"

"Um, sure, but I can just go home on my own–"

"Just do as I say if you want to live to see another day– And I swear to god, if you make another joke about death, I'll hurt you myself."

"Ooh," you coo at him as he enters the elevator with you, hitting the 5th floor. "Threatening me now? Is that how you treat a pretty girl?"

Cheol's breath is shaky when he lets out a sigh, averting his gaze. "What about when the pretty girl ghosts me for a whole week?"

"I told you, Cheol, I was busy–"

"I know, I know. I'm just teasing. I was just scared I did something wrong for a second." He doesn't let you say anything when the elevator opens, continuing, "Anyway, you can rest in my office while your friend comes to get you."

"You have an office?"

Cheol laughs at your shocked question, "Yeah, that's what I get for bringing in the most clients here. Anyway, go in and take a seat. I'll get you something to drink." You walk into his office, bewildered by the room. He had a nicer desk than you did and little polaroids decorated the board next to his window. It was a cozier place than you would expected to find in a gym. You sit in a chair, giggling at a photo of Kkuma on the wall, wearing a bow the same shade of pink as her tongue. 

"So adorable," you say under your breath.

"I know I am," Cheol startles you, coming up next you with a bottle of water. 

You elbow him away, starting to feel unusually hot out of the blue. "Sorry, I know it's kinda hot," he apologizes, "I asked them to turn the air up but it takes a while for it to actually work." 

You don't say anything, focused on getting your vision to stop losing focus and the man takes a seat across from, concern painting his face when he catches your dazed look. "Hey, look at me. Take a deep breath for me. What's wrong?"

"Hot," you mumble, pressing a hand against your sweaty forehead. It felt like the short five minute walk was catching up to you all at once, your heart starting to hammer wildly in your chest. You press against it in pain. 

"Doll," Cheol's voice mellows out, his hand taking yours in his. "Drink some water for me." You do as he says, but the water is lukewarm, doing nothing to help. You swallow hard against the dryness in your throat. 

"Okay, that's not going to work," he lets out. And then, his hands are your waist, grabbing the fabric of your shirt, "Y/N, I'm going to take your top off, 'kay?"

Even in your queasy state, you manage to jump at his touch on your bare stomach. "Cheol, I…"

"Trust me, doll," he leans down to meet your eyes. "It'll help." With an obedient hum, you let Cheol take control, him peeling the layer of fabric off your skin. You feel much better almost instantly, the warm air hitting your bare skin. You sigh out as you rest your head in your hands.

"Thanks," you breathe, "I feel like shit."

"That's okay." You look up at him when you catch the hitch in his voice. Through the fuzziness in your vision, you see Cheol avoiding your gaze. You reach for his bicep in your confusion, "Cheol."

He turns to you, eyes wavering as they trail down your neck. You feel heat shoot to your neck at his gaze and he coughs awkwardly. "Sorry," his voice is hoarse, "I'm not looking."

"You can," you state boldly, turning to him. You were wearing an old bra, a plain black thing that had kept you company for decades now, the lace in the back unravelling with wear. But the way Cheol looked at you right now, you could've been wearing the fanciest lingerie in season. 

"Y/N," he warns you. 

You're feeling better by the moment, vision clearing as your body tempertaure returns to normal. But instead of overheating, you find yourself losing focus for a different reason. You shift closer to Cheol, "If you're embarrassed, do something about it."

Your words stun him, his eyes wide as he stares back to make sure you were the one saying them. But all he finds is unbridled lust in your gaze, hand clawing at his knee, begging him to do something, anything that could help your state.

In a flash, Cheol's shirt is off and you drink in the sight before you hungrily. The sight you'd only ever imagined and dreamed about is finally yours to enjoy and you're going to make every moment worth it. When Cheol hears the desperate mewl you let out, he's pulling you close, hands encompassing your waist. You're on his lap before you know, knees hitting the valley of his pelvis. 

"Fuck, you're hotter than I imagined," you groan out, hands roaming his bare back. He bites back an undignified sound at your comment, "Doll, you're making this really hard for me."

You feel his body burning up under yours and you're not sure which one of you is out of breath, but you're panting into his mouth the next thing you know. "This is crazy," he mumbles into you and you can't help but chuckle. "I know," you shoot, thumbs on his cheeks, tracing the skin around his lips. "But I think I went crazy the day I set my eyes on you."

Your shameless admission has Cheol groaning into your skin, his lips attaching to your neck. You feel him bury his face in your hair, inhaling deeply before he finds your face again. "You don't know the kinds of thoughts I've had about you," he laughs, eyes hooded, "I can't even think about you without losing it."

You're about to reveal a part of your suffering when your phone starts ringing. When you see Wonwoo's name on the screen, you jump up with a curse. "Shit, it's Wonwoo."

"Who?"

"He's here to pick you up."

"Why?"

You glare at Cheol, "Because you asked me to ask a friend."

"Right," he says slowly, running a hand through his hair. Even now, all you can think is about the way his stomach contracts with the sharpness of his breath. God, you want him so bad. 

"I'm gonna ask him to come up here but we should probably get dressed–"

"I don't want to."

You stare at Cheol with a dumbfounded expression. "Cheol, we have to." After much convincing, you manage to get Cheol's shirt back on, just in time for the knock that comes on his door. 

"Wonwoo?" you open the door and smile at your friend. Wonwoo looks worried, not returning your greeting. "Y/N, what the fuck is wrong with you? You didn't get the day off so you could come here and–"

Wonwoo's reprimand is cut short when he catches sight of the other man in the room, mouth hanging open. "Oh, this is–" you turn to introduce Cheol but he's already at your side, holding his hand out for Wonwoo. "Seungcheol," his voice has dropped a magical two octaves, eyes cold. 

"I'm Wonwoo, Y/N's friend," Wonwoo says back, shaking his hand uneasily. "Anyway, let's get you out of here–" Wonwoo's hand is on yours to guide you out when Cheol's breaking between you, sticking his arm out in front of you with a frown.

"Cheol, what're you–"

"Sorry, you don't have to bother. I'll take her home."

You gape at his declaration, attempting to shake some sense into him with a harsh Cheol under your breath. But he remains unyielding, staring at Wonwoo to back off. Your friend looks puzzled and you sigh, "Wonwoo, I'll come with–"

But Wonwoo's taking a step back, a playful glint in his eye, "Oh, wait, I just remembered I have a thing to pick up for the boss before I go home. Sorry, Y/N, you'll be fine, right?" He doesn't even bother waiting to hear you confirm your safety before he's rushing down the stairs, not even bothering with the elevator. 

When he's gone, you stare at Cheol's back. "What the fuck was that?"

He turns to you, "We're not done here."

"Really? That's your excuse? I can't believe you made me call Wonwoo all the way out here–"

"That was before you got me all worked up, doll," he snaps, "And to top it all off, you expected me to watch you get escorted out of here by another man? I'm a nice guy but I can't just let him get his hands all over you."

You can't help the laugh that leaves you, "Cheol, are you jealous right now? Wonwoo's a friend and he's–" Before you can tell him that Wonwoo's already dating Lisa, Cheol's lips are on you, shutting you up for good. He pulls away when you're too weak to say anything back. "I'll drive you home, doll, so stop worrying. I'll apologize to your friend if I have to, but let me take care of you tonight."

Cheol's true to his word, watching your every move as he walks you to his car. You wonder for a second if he came from money, to be able to afford such a nice car on a gym trainer's salary and then, lose your train of thought when he leans forward to strap your seatbelt in. Catching the flush on your cheeks, he chuckles softly, "You're too nervous, doll. I'm not going to kill you and bury your body so why don't you relax for me?" 

He turns on the music, soft jazz hitting your ears and easing your nerves. You quietly ask, "Are we going to your place?"

"Since I don't know where you live," he says, "My place it is."

Cheol's a good driver, not to your surprise, with you falling asleep in the passenger seat on the drive to his home. He stirs you awake 20 minutes later, smiling, "We're here."

Your suspicions about Cheol's wealth are confirmed when you set foot in his place, convinced he was sitting on a crazy inheritance to afford the huge apartment where he lived. "My parents divorced when I was young," he explains when he understands your inquisitory looks, "And my mom felt bad about leaving my life so this is her way of saying sorry. Showering me with luxury. It's burdening but I love her too much to say no at this point." 

"Plus," he adds, coming to cup your hand in his, "I get to impress girls with it."

You laugh at his comment, pushing him away, "I'm sure you've have lots of girls over."

"You're the only one that matters," he insists, "At least the only sick one I've brought home just so I can nurse back to health."

He sits you down on his couch, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'll make you something to eat, okay? Food's the best medicine."

– 

In the following weeks, you come to fall even harder for Cheol because outside the gym, he's a man full of love. He meets you after work every day, leading you to his car so you don't have to take the subway, not paying any mind to your protests. He even holds your hand the whole drive back to either of your places, more often his than yours, because he likes to cook you dinner in his kitchen before he makes love to you in his bed.

It's dizzying, being this in love with a man you've lusted after for so long. The sex is mind-blowing, somehow even better than your dreams. You explore his body every second that you can, lips finding their place on his when you're not busy talking. You kiss his back tattoo and tell how much you love it, tracing the lines of the olive tree until you could draw it in your sleep. He shivers under your touch, his tongue on your own tattoo every time you leave your back exposed around him.

"I tried so hard to keep my hands off you the first time you showed up in that backless bra," he admits one evening, circling your tattoo. "Seeing your tattoo made me feel crazy. I could barely think straight that whole day. All I wanted was to feel every inch of your body."

You bury your head in the pillows beneath you, "I knew it! You did that shit on purpose!" 

"Of course I did," his large hands roll you off your stomach and onto your back so you're making eye contact with him. "You think I call every pretty client of mine doll? You think I feel all of them up and down?"

"I hoped you didn't," you sigh into his mouth when it inevitably descends on yours. 

"You must think I'm a slut if you doubted it for a second," he laughs. You shrug, "You were too hot to not be one."

It's too late to take your words back when Cheol sits up with a pout, "Wow… That's what I get for being into you? You know what–"

"I'm kidding! Cheol, stop, don't go! I was kidding! Hey, come back!"

–

[spideyriki]

oh man if u could so sub hybrid!hee or jake i’d love u forever … ur kitty jungwon one was so good !!! looking forward to more stuff from ur blog :D

puppy boy!

pairings: sub!jake x dom!reader

c. warnings: hybrid puppy!jake, mommy kink, pegging, drooling, collars, finger sucking + lmk if i missed anything!

w. count: 1.3k+

a. note: i'm so so sorry, anon, for how long overdue this was :(( i hope you like it tho, feedback n reblogs r always appreciated <3

it was late in the night and you were still busy doing your assignments, jake had supposedly gone off to bed hours ago.

"mommy", jake's small voice called out to you, snapping you out of work trance. you hum out confused as you turn around and see jake looking at you, an adorable pout adorning his face and his pretty pink collar still securely around his neck.

"what's wrong, jakey?",

jake's big puppy eyes looked nearly on the verge of tears, his puppy ears laying flat on his disheveled hair. unable to resist, you open your arms to invite jake to sit on your lap. in an istant, jake planted himself on your lap, the sound of his little bell from his collar jingling at how quickly he ran into your lap. despite his tired face, his tail wagged happily as your hand gently ran up and down the small of his back and his face burried in my neck.

"hurts, mommy...", jake whined out quietly.

"what hurts, pup?" you ask, concerned. jake's face flushed and he hid deeper in your neck, as his little puppy ears twitched. jake's hand gently holds your wrist, shyly guiding it down to his crotch and oh.

it was a miracle how you hadn't noticed how hard jake was earlier when he walked into your office, considering the large bulge his pajama shorts were barely covering. you coo at jake before your wrist palmed his covered erection, moving in small circular motions. at your teasing touch, jake lets out a pitiful whimper, subconsciously bucking his hips up into your touch.

"mommy, please fuck me...", jake's pout deepened as he continued grinding into your palm, his tongue mouthing your neck, letting his saliva coat your skin as a purple mark forms there for him to admire after.

you let him continue his ministrations for awhile longer until you notice his hips desperately bucking up into your palm and his hands travelled all over your body until he finally reaches up to squeeze your breast, a whine is ripped out of him as jake feels his orgasm approaching.

"i've barely done anything puppy and you're already such a mess", you taunt.

jake's cheeks flushed a red hue, his drool sliding down your neck, unshed tears brimming at his big puppy eyes and at some point, jake's hips had changed into a humping motion, trying to chase as much friction as possible.

at all the tell tale signs of his impending orgasm, you pull your hand away from his clothed dick, depriving him of his much needed release.

"mommy!", jake cries out. his eyes that were previously closed shut, jutting open to look at up at you as tears threaten to fall.

you quickly shush him and rub up and down his back in an attempt to soothe your puppy. your fingers reach to pull down his pajama pants, jake lifting his hips to help ease you. as the garment is removed, his throbbing cock jumps out, smacking his stomach. his tip an angry red as precum glistened on his slit, a drop of precum gathers and falls down the side of his long length, down a prominent vein. jake bites his lip as your thumb swipes at his slit, gathering his precum on it before bringing it up to your lips to wrap your tongue around the digit, humming out slightly at his taste, your beautiful eyes never once leaving his.

as you release your thumb, you usher jake off your lap. another sad whimper exits your puppy at the loss of your close proximity.

"take off your clothes, pup", you instruct jake as to which he quickly obeys. while jake, hurriedly strips himself, you clear your desk and reach in the drawer drawer to pull out jake's favourite strap.

by the time you turn back to face jake, he's completely nude. his pretty cock standing proud against his stomach, hard and aching. a small smile etches onto your face at jake's eagerness, his tail continuing to wag happily.

your fingers tap the desk once, immediately jake is bent over your desk, his back arched and resting on his forearms, just as you've trained him to.

reaching up, you ruffle his hair, "good boy, jakey", you praise, his ears perking up at the praise as he mumbles a shy thank you.

your hands roam all over his body, stroking from his shoulders to his slim waist before finally reaching his ass. gently you squeeze and massage his cheeks, rubbing the skin softly before your finger circles around his tight hole which flutters around nothing.

slowly, you push a finger in. his hole practically swallowing your digit. gently you gradually add more fingers into jake to stretch him out. as you begin to thrust your fingers into him slowly, jake whines out, rolling his hips back against your fingers.

"mommy, puppy's already streched for you."

a small chuckle leaves you at his desperation. pulling out your fingers, you spit into your hand to lube up your strap.

once you deem your strap ready, your hands circle around jake's slender waist before pushing your large cock into his hole. a moan is ripped out of jake's throat as he feels you deep in him, his body and chest flushing. your body stilled as you waited for jake to adjust to your girth, not even a minute later jake's hips begin to move against you.

your fingers stroke his waist soothingly, as you admire the way his delicate hips move languidly along your cock, struggling to take in your full length. his ass cheeks jump at each of his own thrusts, desperate to feel all of you in him.

"you can go faster than this, can't you puppy?", you coo encouragingly at jake.

multiple whimpers resonate throughout the room as you watch him do all the work himself, his movements fastening.

finally taking pity on jake, you finally begin to thrust into jake. the tip of your cock hitting directly into his prostate, jake lets out a loud cry at the overwhelming pleasure.

your poor baby is a mess by now, big pretty tears rolling down his pink cheeks, a mantra of moans and 'mommy' leaving him. tongue lolling out of his mouth drooling all over himself and your desk as he pants.

"look at the mess your making, baby", reaching forward you shove two fingers into jake's mouth to which he immediately sucks on, gagging slightly as they reach the back of his throat.

at the new angle, your cock reaches into his hole deeper, repeatedly abusing his prostate. despite your fingers in his mouth, it does little to stop your puppy from drooling, his saliva rolling down your arm. muffled moans and whines alongside your groans and the sound of your skin against jake's rings through the room.

jake's throbbing cock hangs heavily between his thighs, droplets of precum falling onto your wooden floors at your hard and deep thrusts. your other finger, reaches up to pinch at his pink nipples, jake mewls around your fingers at the pleasure. more tears are streaming down his pretty face, his mind is only filled with the thoughts of you as you fuck him dumb.

his hands gently pull at your wrist, "mommy please, need to cum!", he hurries out before sucking on your digits once again.

you release his now puffy nipple and reach for his cock, stroking it quickly, in pace with your thrust.

"cum for mommy, puppy. be mommy's good boy."

at your words, your fingers toying with his cock and your cock continuously kissing his prostate, jake moans around your fingers. his back arching beautifully as his cock releases a nearly concerningly large amount of cum, your hand strokes him through his orgasm.

his moans now quietened down to whimpers from the strength of his release, your hips slowing before finally going still. you gently pull out of jake, removing your fingers from his mouth, a string of saliva connecting you.

immediately, praises fall out of you. jake lets you manhandle him gently until he's resting on your lap on your chair once again. a comforting hand patting over jake's back while pressing soft kisses wherever you can reach as he rests his head on your shoulder, arms wrapping around you tightly, his tail wagging as he basks in your praise.

©spideyriki 🍉

[jojissalsa]

Perfect body, Pretty face

Warnings: dom!Leon x fem/sub!reader, power dynamics (boss/assistant), daddy kink, mentions of nudes/sex work, taking pictures during sex, facial, condescension, slight praise, mentions of age gap (reader is in mid 20s), clothes ripping (tights), reader is bratty at some point.

hello again :3 i wanna post what i can while i have the time, so i can kinda build this page up. hope u guys enjoy this one even if i feel like i made a few mistakes and lmk where i can improve! constructive criticism, reposts and requests are always welcome :D (minors don’t interact, touch grass.)

WC: 3.3k (proofread)

When Leon first came to the D.S.O, he expected bigger missions and harder work. Not boring ass reports and paperwork. The missions were definitely longer, which meant piles atop piles of paperwork that would take longer than it should. When the D.S.O realized Leon needed more time on his reports compared to the rookies or standard agents, they gave him a hand. You, his new assistant. And god, were you helpful. You were more than a sight for sore eyes, you were distracting at first, but even more so as he got to know you. You even remembered his favorite coffee order, and what he liked most for lunch. To him, you were just doing a good job. But in reality, you just wanted to get in his pants more than anything.

Your last boss was such a douchebag, the typical mansplaining and ungratefulness. But Leon? He was such a sweetheart, and so understanding. He didn’t get annoyed when you made a tiny mistake, a couple minutes late or working slower at the end of your shift. You knew damn well your attraction to him was bad for you and this job, but Eve still ate that apple didn’t she? You were the same, always attracted to forbidden fruit. But when it was Leon, who cares about forbidden? It just adds to the flavor. Obviously being an assistant didn’t make the most money, but at least you got a pretty face to work with. And there’s no shame in a side hustle, right? That’s what you thought when you made a Twitter account when you first became an assistant, well, intern at first. The job was so damn stressful and your shitty boss didn’t help. It was harmless fun at first, posting a few lewd pictures of your cleavage or in cute two-piece bathing suits you got. And then it got even lewder, posting pictures of your bare tits, dim lighting from your computer, things like that until you said fuck it and showed all the goods. Complaining about your shitty boss became part of your brand, as well as the faceless part of your nudes. You never showed your face, only your hair if it was a full body picture, not because you were ashamed of what you were doing. Not in the slightest, actually. You were just worried about word spreading around the office, especially since you were getting fairly popular. No face, no case, right? Plus, it’s not like anyone had x-ray vision to see if you had the same tits. It’s not like it hurt business either, you had a perfect body. You weren’t the skinniest person in the world, average like most people’s bodies. But to you, it was perfect. It suited you and flaunting it made you happy.

Your brand definitely shifted when you changed bosses, less complaining about how much your job sucked to more complaining about how badly you needed your boss to look at you differently. Pictures of you up-skirt under your desk whenever he wasn't looking or left to grab you both coffee or lunch, captions that always mentioned him.

"is it bad that my boss gets me this wet?"

"wish my boss would crawl under my desk and take care of this ;p"

And they would only get more and more risky. Posts of your increasingly skimpy outfits and a courtesy picture of you out of them captioned "you guys think my boss will like? lol". A video of you cumming in the bathroom at work, another where you cheekily slipped your fingers in your cunt, rubbing your slick over your clit before giggling as you turn the recording off.

Leon really didn’t mean to find something of yours this personal, he was just a guy looking for porn where he knew he could find it. He may be old but the man still needs to get off. And he was a man of taste, he liked the amateur stuff, and he knew Twitter had it. When he stumbled across your account, he thought it was perfect. At first he didn't know it was you, but by your most recent posts, it was obvious. You never name dropped him, or even said what he looked like, only saying he was fine and looked like a dilf, which was definitely an ego boost when he figured out it was you. It was easy, really. He was bored at night, couldn’t sleep like usual, and hoped that jacking off would clear his head a bit. It didn’t clear his head in the slightest when he saw your most recent video. It was of you working overtime, fingering yourself on his desk. Biting your lip to stay quiet but failing miserably as your fingers keep rubbing against that spongy spot in your walls, palm slapping against your clit. The best part? You said his name while you came. Maybe not his full name, but the way you let it out subconsciously, saying "Mr. Kennedy" in the most pornographic way possible, realizing you did and then giggling when you felt no remorse. Only an "oh shit" and a cutesy laugh as you abruptly ended the video. He was gonna say something tomorrow. He had to.

The second you walk in the door with that polite smile you always have, cute pink blouse and short pencil skirt, he waves you over to his desk. "Y/n, come here for a sec." His stern tone makes you blush and immediately walk over after setting down your bag. "Yes, sir? Is there something you need from me?" You expect him to say he needs a file or some kind of paper, but he shocks you when he turns his monitor around to show your twitter page. "You know anything about this?" You don't show it on your face, but the way you clench your jaw makes it obvious. You've got a good poker face, he'll give you that. "No sir, am I supposed to?" You get a bit of an attitude, mainly because he just totally called you out. "I don't know, you tell me." He scrolled very little down to your last post, the video. You gulp, knowing damn well you said his name. "Is that you saying my name?" His tone is still stern, but it feels more teasing now, considering his cocky smirk. He has you in a corner. "Don't you think it's a little sleazy to be prying into my personal hobbies?" Your attitude gets more prominent, crossing your arms and giving him a sharp glare. You were more prideful than anything, his smugness starting to piss you off because of how turned on you were getting. "Don't you think it's a bit slutty to finger fuck yourself on my desk?" When he shot back at you with that you froze, face going completely red. Not only was he right, you had no room to talk about his habits, but the way he said it was so fucking hot it lit a fire in you, shockwaves shooting straight to your clit.

You felt uncomfortable under his gaze, your lips parted as you felt your pulse throbbing between your thighs, knowing your panties were soaked. "You gonna say something or just come over here already? Stop wasting my time, I have work to do." It was instant when he said that, hips swaying as you walked to him, holding your hands in front of you as you looked down at the ground. "What's got you all shy? You certainly weren't shy last night." His teasing was really getting to you, making your lips squeeze as you shift your thighs again, your chest feeling so heavy with every breath you took. "Didn't I tell you not to waste my time? Sit on my desk and spread your legs." Your breath hitches at his demanding words, hopping up on his desk and spreading your legs. You thank god that it was a little chilly today, making you wear sheer black tights. Not that you'd be wearing them long, you just hope the wet spot on your panties wasn’t noticeable. "Jesus, soaked through your fucking tights? You're that excited?" His teasing made you go wide eyed, whimpering at his smug gaze piercing through you. "Yes sir.." You finally manage to speak, even if it sounds breathless and needy. Your eyes stay steady on him, taking in every feature you can. You lick your lips from the sight of his hard cock pressed against his tight slacks, not daring to close your legs in the slightest even if you were desperate for friction. "See something you like?" You watch him palm over his hard on, just watching something that sinful makes you moan softly. "I thought you said not to waste your time? What are you waiting for?" You throw any bit of shyness out the window, brattiness taking its place instead. After all, he meddled into something private, why make it easy for him? That’s no fun~

His brows furrowed as he gives you an annoyed look, groaning in frustration as he shoots up from his office chair and grabs your waist, pulling you from his desk and flipping you to bend over. He certainly doesn't waste any time now, pulling your skirt up and ripping a massive hole in your tights, making you gasp and squirm, turning your head to try and see the damage. "Don't complain, no point in denying you like it. Why else are your panties fucking drenched?" You throw him a frustrated glare before grumbling something about those being expensive under your breath. "Sorry, what was that?" You gasp as his hand slams down harshly on your ass cheek, whining at his gentle kneading on the now stinging red spot. "You're trying so hard to be bratty, when you're usually such a sweet girl. Always coming here early, bringing me coffee, remembering my favorite lunch. You don't do that because you like this job, hell, a slut like you doesn’t care about working hard. You do it because you want my attention." His hand keeps kneading the fat of your ass, making you back up into his palm for more. That doesn't stop your attitude though. "Oh boo hoo, as if you didn't love every second of it. How'd you even find my page? The nursing home gives you internet after 10?" Your bitchy tone doesn't go unnoticed by him, and neither does your smug smirk that is clearly challenging him, if anything it lights the same fire inside him, dick twitching under his slacks. He shoots you a glare that says "you really wanna do this?", as if you care about that silly warning. What's the worst he could do? "Y'know they shouldn't give a pervy old man like you access to stuff like that, it rots your brain~" You get cut off by another slap on your ass, harder than the last one, he doesn't even bother to soothe the sting with his hand. "Pervy old man? Then what are you? Some slut thinking of her boss's cock all day. How high and mighty." Another slap, and you're already unraveling by the second, the tingling sensation from his spanks sending shock after shock to your clit.

"You go on and on about me on that damn site for thousands to see, so why not take what you want? You're getting nowhere by being an ungrateful brat." He's really starting to make sense with how desperate you are to be touched, for that release you so desperately need. And with how hard his spanking is getting, it's making your head dizzy. He presses his hard-on against your ass, making you whine and grind against him. That's not enough for him though, he needs you to say it, the same way you said his name last night. "C'mon pretty girl, get what you want and ask for it, I know you can." He grinds against your ass, finally snapping through the sane part of your brain. "Fuck! Fine, please, please give it to me, I can't wait anymore, please Mr. Kennedy.." You beg in a gravelly voice, nails digging into his desk as the neediness in you builds. "Need what? You can say it." He slaps your ass again, a little gentler now that you're finally getting there, sliding his hand down to press his thumb on the gusset on your panties, hissing at how wet it felt. "Your cock, Leon, please, I need your cock so bad.." You whimper in broken fragments from your voice breaking, sighing in relief as he finally pulls down your panties, feeling your slick connect to them in strings and the cool air contrasting how hot you feel. As you heard the sound of metal clinking and a zipper pulled down you wished he flipped you over, because you really wanted to see his cock, turning your head in a desperate attempt to steal a quick glance. "Don't worry baby, you'll get a good look later." You don't care enough to question him, you care more about his tip pressed against your folds, threatening to stretch you open.

The coil of anticipation that's released when he finally slides inside you is the most euphoric feeling, growling as he fills you completely, balls nestled right against your clit. "Fuck, barely had to do anything and it slipped in so easy. Like you were made to take this cock, huh, sweetheart?" He goes slow at first, letting you adjust to his thick size, agonizing in how slow he drags his cock along your walls. All you can mutter is 'yes' like a mantra to keep you in reality, but every stroke is sending you further into that cloudy part of your brain where all you can think about is how you can feel everything. His hands on your hips to keep you in place, the way his cock kisses right against your cervix then pulls all the way out just to make you drunk off the feeling, his low and heavy grunts dangerously close to your ear, and it's all getting you even more impatient and needy. "Leon, please, go faster, need it faster." You speak through broken sobs and high pitched whines, looking back at him with a pleading pout. You can't say no to this cute face, can you? His nails dig into your hips, finally fucking you faster, and so much harder, you can feel the air in your lungs get choked out with every harsh thrust. "Just can't help yourself, can you? So fucking impatient." He can hear you getting louder, and between you and the sound of skin slapping against wet skin, he can at least silence one. "So loud, the whole fucking office can probably hear you." He puts his hand over your mouth and pulls your head up, body arching backwards as your head meets his shoulder. You can barely make out his smug grin as he looks down at you, glossy eyes with blown out pupils, your cheeks flushed a deep red.

"You look so pretty like this, looking up at me without a thought in that pretty little head. Just needed Daddy to fuck you stupid, huh?" He gets a wicked chuckle at your wide eyes, the way you clench tighter and move your hips to meet his rhythm. You curse yourself mentally for tweeting about that godforsaken daddy kink you have, or any of your kinks because now he knows every little thing that makes you tick. How frustrating. "Ohhh, didn't think I would look that far? You have no idea, spent hours looking at your stuff, even during missions I couldn't help but think about this sweet pussy wrapped around my cock." Your expression goes blank at his words, completely cockdrunk. You know you shouldn't do any of this, you can only imagine how much trouble you’d be in if someone walked in right now. But who could blame you? You couldn't name a single person who would throw away an opportunity like this. Who needs responsibility when you could have the simple yet intense pleasure that Leon Kennedy brings?

"Almost went crazy when I heard my name in that dirty fucking mouth, never been that hard in my life. Gonna make sure that mouth is full of my name every chance I get." You scream and whimper, the sound rumbling against his hand as you get closer and closer, toes curling into your heels. The sight is so damn beautiful to him, and he just has to see what you look like when you cum in person. When you cum on his cock, not some silly toy that could never satisfy you the way he can. His free hand takes its time sliding up your blouse to palm your tits over your bra, his fingers raking over the soft skin of your stomach before stilling at your bunched up skirt around your waist, right above your clit. "You wanna cum, don't you, baby? You're gonna be good and ask nicely, yeah? Go ahead, tell Daddy you wanna cum." He moves his hand away from your mouth but keeps your head up, gripping your face instead, watching as you greedily suck in air between mindless moans. "Please Daddy, please, please, please let me cum, need to cum so fucking bad-" Your pathetic babbling cuts off when his fingers put pressure on your clit, rubbing fast circles that make your brows frown as your walls clench, the knot in your stomach slowly coming undone. "There you go, such a good girl, asking me so nicely. Cum for me, sweet girl, cum on my cock for me." And you do, harder than you have in a while, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you see white spots, those sweet, broken sobs leaving your lips involuntarily, moaning his name as he slows down.

Before you know it, you're on your knees in front of him, finally getting a full, up close and personal view of his fat cock. He's thick, pre-cum pearling at his tip as he uses your slick to finish himself off, fisting his cock feverishly. "Told you you'd get a better look, now open up sweetheart. Gonna cover that pretty face in my cum, maybe even take a picture for those depraved little boys that get off on you." He’s one to talk.. His grunts and soft whimpers between his words make you bite back an eager grin, lolling your tongue out and getting blessed with the salty taste on his tip. You keep your lips pursed on his cock, looking up at him with doe eyes that make his cock kick in his hand, your own hands resting on his thighs. He pulls some hair away from your face with his free hand and keeps it there as he finally coats your cheeks and tongue with pools of cum, chuckling through breathless moans as he slaps his cock on your tongue. He grabs his phone as his free hand leaves your hair to press his thumb on your tongue, keeping your mouth open. He groans with a smug smirk as you look up into the camera, a clear, empty head as drool dribbles down your chin and onto his fingers holding your chin. "You'll get this picture tonight when I drive you home, 'kay?" He helps you back to your feet, cleaning off your face with his handkerchief and pulling your skirt down, fixing your wrinkled blouse. “Now go finish those reports for me, try not to work too slow, don’t wanna work overtime, do you?” He softly strokes your back, coaxing you closer to your desk. "Yes, Mr. Kennedy.." You breathe out, still wobbly on your feet as you walk to your desk, feeling the sting on your ass as you sit down, shivering at the tingle. Worth it.

[lavendertom]

The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 2

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 1, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

wc: 1.9k

warnings: none! fluff, hurt/comfort if u squint, tiny age gap (as always, lmk if there’s anything i’ve missed)

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings.

quick note, AU where nothing bad happens at the pizzeria, so we r diverging from that storyline slightly. more info to come next part :) happy reading!

——————————————————————————

“Mike! Y/n is here!” Abby shouted through the house.

You had just walked through the front door of the Schmidt house. You had been Abby’s babysitter for just over a month now, but tonight was different. It was going to be your first night shift. Mike had just started a new security gig where he had to work a few nights each week.

So far, it’s been great babysitting Abby. The two of you have grown closer, doing more and more activities together. It rarely felt like work babysitting Abby. Becoming closer to Abby meant you were also, slowly but surely, growing closer to Mike.

You were hanging up your jacket on the coat hanger next to the door, looking up just in time to see Mike standing in the hallway in front of you. He had his usual attire on: some kind of long sleeved shirt with a jacket, a pair of jeans, and some old tennis shoes. But this time, a vest sporting the phrase “security” was worn over his jacket.

“Nice halloween costume.” you said sarcastically, holding in a small laugh.

“Don’t judge.” he said sighing, rolling his eyes. “Only I can hate it.”

“I’m just messing with you. You give that vest character.” you said, playfully pushing his shoulder as you walked past each other. You headed over to Abby as she sat at the dinner table, pushing her food around on her plate. “What’s up Abs?”

“Nothing. Can you tell Mike to stop making this stuff? It sucks.” she said looking up at you.

“Thanks for the feedback, next time I’ll leave dinner all up to you.” he said as he grabbed his keys and backpack. The young girl rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at him when his back was turned. You pulled a chair to sit with Abby at the table when Mike walked over.

“You gonna be okay tonight?” Mike asked you, he placed his hands on the backs of the chairs. This was probably the 20th time he asked you this. He knew nights weren’t what you signed up for, but you were flexible and didn’t mind the change of plans.

“Yes, I promise. My parents are just across the street if we need anything.” you said with a smile.

“Alright, my phone number’s on the fridge if you need anything.” If only you knew I already had it memorized. “Abs you gotta be in bed by 9:30, you understand? You have school in the morning. Don’t give y/n a hard time.” Mike said as he ruffled Abby’s hair, kissing her head.

“Sounds like a plan.” you said, looking at Mike as he headed towards the door. “See you in the morning.”

He looked at you one last time before saying his goodbyes, shutting the door behind him. It wasn’t long before Abby had her first activity recommendation of the night.

“Can we have a movie night before bed?” she asked you. You decided to donate some of your old favorite movies to the siblings, giving Abby a whole new array of movies to choose from.

“Sure, what do you have in mind?” you asked.

“The Little Mermaid!” she squealed.

The two of you made some popcorn, even allowing Abby a cup of her favorite soda, before settling down with some cozy blankets and pillows for your movie night. You watched as the girl sat in awe at the film playing before her eyes.

You always hoped to see the day a young child’s eyes would light up from experiencing your favorite films from your childhood. You never thought that feeling would’ve come from seeing Abby experience the magic for the first time.

You both sat watching the film intently, occasionally throwing a handful of popcorn into your mouths.

“Do you ever wish you’ll find a prince like Ariel?” Abby randomly blurted out.

“Yeah, I think it would be nice.” you said, not giving much thought to the silly question. Abby often asked questions like these. “Do you?”

“I don’t think so. I’m too little.” she scrunched her nose.

“Good answer.” you said with a small laugh.

You turned your attention back to the movie, taking a sip of your drink.

“I think Mike’s still waiting for his princess.” the young girl blurted out again. This time, it caught you off guard.

“Yeah?” you asked, choking on your soda a bit.

“He’s always so sad and tired. Maybe a princess would cheer him up.”

“What kind of princess do you think he would like?”

“Someone to make him laugh. Someone who gives him a big hug when he is sad. Someone who makes better mac and cheese than he does.”

You smiled at the girl listening to her list off all of the qualifications.

“That sounds like the perfect princess Abs.”

“You would be a good princess for Mike.” she blurted yet again, eyes still on the screen, catching you off guard once more.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” you said, feeling your face warm up. You thought about that comment the rest of the night.

You somehow managed to get Abby to bed at 10, which isn’t bad considering how much she loves talking and playing with you. She went down fairly quickly, giving you the rest of the night to yourself.

You flipped through the channels on the TV, trying to stay awake, also trying not to think about Abby’s comment earlier. “You would be a good princess for Mike.” Ultimately, you failed, falling asleep to the sound of the 12am news.

At around 4:30am, you heard the sound of shuffling at the door, sitting up groggily to see what the fuss was. The door quietly opened and you heard the sound of a backpack hit the floor.

“I’m so sorry, did I wake you up?” Mike whispered.

“No it’s all good. I just kind of woke up on my own.” you replied, half lying, with a small yawn. “I tried to stay awake but the TV line up in the middle of the night isn’t fantastic.”

“You’re fine, y/n. You deserve rest while you’re on the job. You have class tomorrow anyways.” he said as he went to sit on the recliner next to the couch you laid on. You both sat in silence for a minute or two, it felt like forever. “How’d Abby do?”

“Great as always.” you said rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes. “We watched a movie, I might’ve given her a soda. She went to bed at around 10, but I don’t blame her I was her age once too.”

“That’s good. No problems?”

“When has there ever been any problems, Mike.” you said with a chuckle. More silence filled the air.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

He thought for a moment, hesitating before he spoke up. “Thank you for all you do for us. I’ve really seen a change in Abby lately and there’s no doubt you are a big part of that.”

“Of course.” you said with a smile. “Abby’s a great kid.”

“You know things haven’t been easy.” he said with a sigh. “I think you bring just a little more happiness in her life – in our lives.”

You looked at him for a moment, noticing his eyes like you did the first time you met him. They were still that shade of brown with the little green specks, but this time they were filled with sadness. He looked absolutely drained. He knew you noticed the hopelessness in the interaction.

“I’m sorry about that, didn’t mean to drop any of this on you.” he said looking down at his hands.

“Mike, it’s okay.” you said softly, reassuring him. You just honestly didn’t know what to say.

You stood up from your place on the couch, watching him sit up a little taller in his own chair.

“Come here.” you said quietly, surprised he even heard you.

He stood up, stepping towards you quietly not to wake up Abby with the creaky floorboards. Once he was right in front of you, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. It took him a second until he also put his arms around you. You rested your head on his shoulder, breathing in the smell of his shirt. You guys just stood there for a minute, you waited until he let go. You knew he needed this. You knew all of those things Abby told you earlier were true.

He finally let go, taking a small step back as your hands rested on his shoulders.

“You guys are going to be okay. I’m here for both of you.” you said looking into his eyes.

“I promise I’ll have the money by the end of the week.” he said, attempting to change the subject.

“Don’t worry about the money. You worry about you and Abby, whenever you have the money will be okay.” you said as you removed your hands from his shoulders.

“Are you sure? You have things you need to take care of too. College tuition is enough to worry about.”

“It’s okay, Mike. I’ll be fine.” you said with a soft smile. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, same time?”

“Yeah.” he said as you walked to the door grabbing your jacket. He followed behind. “Thanks again.”

He pulled you in for another quick hug, before you opened the door, waved bye, and began walking home. He stayed at the door until you safely crossed the street, like he always does, before closing it.

That morning, Abby had a lot to say about her movie night with you to Mike.

“She let me have soda before bed, Mike!” Abby exclaimed while she took a bite of her toast. “And we watched The Little Mermaid, and I asked her if she ever wished she had a prince like Ariel.”

“You know y/n is busy Abs. She has lots of homework, she doesn’t have time for princes.” Mike told his sister as he flipped through some mail. It was true though, some days you would end up doing homework during most of your time babysitting.

“She said it would be nice, then I told her that you definitely need a princess, and I told her that your princess needs to be funny and–“

“Alright Abby I think it’s time for you to go to school now.” Mike said, quickly interrupting her before she could say anymore.

“What?” she questioned him.

“Nothing.” he said standing up to grab his keys, avoiding looking at his little sister.

“I knew it! You have a crush on Y/n!” she said with a gasp.

“I do not, Abs.”

“I won’t tell her, I’ll keep it a secret, I promise!”

“Abs, I don’t have a crush on anyone. People don’t have crushes when they’re adults.”

“You’re blushing, Mike.” she said giggling as she ran to grab her backpack. When she returned, Mike was just heading out the door. Abby picked up her shoes, walking out of the door behind him.

As the pair walked to Mike’s extremely worn out Honda Accord, it just so happened you were also heading to your car just across the street. Abby took notice of this quickly, making sure not to miss this moment to embarrass her brother even more. It’s what little sisters do.

“Hey Y/n!” she shouted, making sure to drag out the ending super long.

“Hey Abby!” you shouted back. “Have a good day at school!”

“Mike say hi.” Abby said to her brother.

“Abby.” he said back, trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

“Say it now or I’ll tell Y/n you have a crush on her.”

He gave you a small wave and a smile as he unlocked the doors.

“See you guys tonight!” you said happily as you got in your car.

“You so have a crush on Y/n.” Abby said one last time, grinning, just for good measure.

[goldfades]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡. | delicate au, jack hughes

౨ৎ ─ summary | this takes place in late august of 2023, a little before the njd season started. jack hughes dm's the girl the whole internet thinks he's dating and invites her to a pre-season get-together at his house.

─ word count | 1.9k

─ warnings | anxiety, some flirting? nothing else!

─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke

─ ev's notes | please lmk ur thoughts on this au so far! i, of course, always read ur guys feedback so anything would be very much appreciated.

Accept message request from jhughes (jackhughes)?

jhughes: have you seen twitter? we're trending 🤣 jhughes: looks like i'm your bf now 🤷🏻🤷🏻

libbytf: yeah um i don't even know how that happened😭 libbytf: they're crazy, that's not either of us?

jhughes: it does really look like us though haha 🤣 i don't blame them

libbytf: the more i look the photos the more i disagree lol, i hope they figure it out on their own 😭

jhughes: haha yeah [seen]

jhughes: me and luke are having a pre season party, you should come if ur free jhughes: oh and if leon wants you to hahaha😭

libbytf: when is it? i'll see if i can come and if i'm in town

jhughes: next saturday at our new place

libbytf: i'll let you know!

jhughes: k lmk ( 👍🏻 )

Libby stared down at her screen, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Did she just get asked out?

She received the message later that day and she was surprised that Jack Hughes had messaged her. She wasn't starstruck or anything but he didn't seem like the "dm" type, he looked more like the type to approach you in public.

She shook her head, she didn't even know if he was hitting on her. He probably wasn't even trying to come off that way, he probably just needed more people at his party. And the truth was, after the whole "Josh" thing, she didn't really have anything to do because everyone in the world was seemingly against her. The messy breakup with Josh had left her feeling exposed, as if every aspect of her personal life was now fair game for public scrutiny.

She had been under the spotlight for years now, long before she had even considered the idea of being a singer. Her sister and father were already apart of the "Hollywood" circle, she has seen this kind of stuff before. She's never been apart of the gossip, though - this was the first time she'd been in the spotlight for a bad reason.

Growing up in the shadow of her sister's and father's fame had accustomed her to the entertainment industry and all the drama that came with it. But now, as the fallout from her breakup with Josh engulfed her, Libby found herself thrust into uncharted territory. The barrage of rumors and gossip had stripped away the layers of privacy she had worked so hard to preserve, leaving her feeling vulnerable.

Libby couldn't even turn to her music anymore, she felt like it was no use because the whole internet (and their moms) hated her for no reason other than her relationship, or lack thereof.

She was pulled out of her thoughts as she felt her phone buzz on her bed. She reached for it lazily and opened it, reading the message.

leon 😛 are you down for something this weekend?

Libby typed out a quick response.

libs 🥸 depends

leon 😛 me and some of the team are gonna have a party this weekend to celebrate the start of the season, they told me to bring someone and ur all i have

leon 😛 unless u say no i'll ask someone else

libs 🥸 jack already asked me so sure :)

leon 😛 wait so ur his plus one?

libs 🥸 no bc he's the literal host, he just invited me😭😭

leon 😛 thats weird but okay, can u still be my plus one

libs 🥸 idk if that'll change anything but sure!!

She sighed at her brother's slight stupidity. It sounds like she was going to be going to the party this weekend. As she agreed, Libby couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety about attending Jack's party. The thought of facing a bunch of strangers, each with their own preconceived notions about who she was, made her stomach churn.

Before she could turn off her phone, her phone buzzed and she looked at the notification.

jhughes (jackhughes) started following you!

──

"Have you been on Twitter?" Leon spoke up as he drove, his eyes glancing toward Libby before focusing back on the road.

She shrugged, "Yeah. Why?"

"Everyone thinks you're dating Jack, it's kinda funny. Isn't this like, your first time meeting him?" Leon replied with a small laugh, shaking his head.

"It's pretty dumb, isn't it?" Libby replied, her voice tinged with amusement. "Well this is like my second or third time meeting him so it's not like we're strangers but still, we're far from strangers."

"Are you sure about that? He messaged you." Leon joked as he smirked at you as you rolled your eyes. She knew he was joking but a part of her thought that maybe he was flirting with her. But Libby could not even mention that to Leon because it'll make him go crazy, staying quiet was the better option.

"Shut up," Libby mumbled as Leon laughed. "The pictures aren't even us, you know?"

"The guy looks a lot like Jack but not you. It's so funny especially because everyone swears that they know you so well but they can't even tell the difference you and some other person." Leon grinned, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the situation. "Well, I guess the internet just loves drama. Can't blame them for trying to spice things up, it is fun."

"I just hope people figure it out soon," Libby sighed, glancing out of the car window at the passing city lights. "I mean, it's not like I need more rumors right now."

Leon shrugged. "Yeah, I get it. But you know what they say, any publicity is good publicity."

"Yeah at least I'll know my new album will get tons of new streams, thanks to Josh's fangirls."

"You mean dickriders? Jesus, have you seen the comments?" Leon scoffed, making a turn to Jack and Luke's home.

Libby sighed, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the car seat. "Yeah, I've seen them. It's like they're just waiting for the opportunity to tear me apart completely, I can't even go on Instagram anymore."

Leon's expression softened with empathy as he reached out to place a comforting hand on Libby's arm. "They're just fucking bored, that's all. They have to tear someone down to feel better. Don't let them get to you."

Libby nodded, grateful for her brother's words of encouragement. "I know, it's just hard sometimes, you know? Feels like I'm constantly under a microscope."

Leon nodded in understanding, his gaze unwavering in its support. "Yeah, I get it. But remember, those comments don't define you. You're so much more than what people say about you."

Libby managed a small smile as they reached Jack's home. The night air was crisp as Libby and Leon made their way towards Jack's home. The distant noise from the party spilled into the quiet neighborhood as they walked towards the entrance.

The home was pretty big but you weren't surprised, they were really good and popular hockey players so of course they had a big home. However, as you walked into their porch, you noticed how clean it was. Not many boys in their twenties kept their homes so clean and organized but Libby was pleasantly surprised at how clean their home was and she hadn't even been inside yet.

Leon gave the door a few knocks before the door opened to reveal Jack, a big grin on his face and a backwards cap on his head. "Leon! You made it!"

"Yeah, and I brought Libs!" Leon grinned back at Jack as his gaze finally fell on Libby, she felt his eyes scan her body before they landed on her eyes once again.

Libby felt a slight flush rise to her cheeks as she met Jack's gaze. His warm smile putting her at ease as she returned it, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in her stomach.

"Awesome! Come on in, guys." Jack ushered them inside, the sounds of the party becoming more pronounced as they stepped inside.

"There's some chips in the kitchen and you guys can just help yourself to the drinks inside the fridge, just don't drink any of our protein smoothies." Jack side glanced to Leon playfully, in which he responded with a quick fine. "Everyone's in the living room playing pool."

"I'm gonna go get a beer, if y'all don't mind." Leon called out as he headed towards the kitchen, leaving Libby and Jack by the entrance.

As Leon left, Libby shifted her gaze to Jack with a warm smile. There was a brief awkward silence before Jack broke it, "I didn't know that you lived in Jersey."

"Well I don't but ever since Leon's moved here I've been spending every second at his place. I actually live in New York City but it gets a little hectic, I need a break sometimes from... everything." Libby explained as she recalled all the drama from the summer, from everything with Olivia to Josh, it was eventful.

Jack nodded, his expression sympathetic as he listened to Libby's explanation. "I get it. New York can be intense, especially with everything going on."

Libby sighed, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders as she spoke about the challenges she faced. "Yeah, it's been a lot to deal with lately. Sometimes, it's nice to escape to somewhere quieter, you know?"

Jack's gaze softened with understanding. "I get it. I'm sorry by the way, with the whole uh... thing." Jack didn't really want to specify but they both knew as Libby nodded.

Libby gave him a sweet smile but before she could respond, Luke came in wearing a Devils jersey. "Dude I've been looking everywhere for you, there's something wrong with the-" He cut himself as he noticed Libby.

"Hey Luke." Libby greeted the tall curly-head with a grin as he walked over to where Libby was and gave her a side hug as Jack observed.

"Libby! I haven't seen you in a while, how's everything?" Luke asked casually as he pulled back.

"Can't complain." You spoke with a small grin as you looked in between the boys. "You?"

"Very excited for the new season, I don't know if you could tell." Luke chuckled as he looked down at the jersey.

Libby couldn't help but chuckle at Luke's enthusiasm. Even though she's never formally met Jack, her and Luke have a pretty good friendship through Leon. As soon as they met they clicked and now they're practically tied at the hip. "Hmm... I couldn't tell. Go Rangers, right?"

"Hey, hey, hey!"

"Whoa, don't you dare step foot in our homes and disrespect us like that. That is a like a slur around here." Jack shook his head playfully as him and Luke exchanged looks before all three of you busted out laughing.

"Sorry, sorry won't happen again!"

"It better not or we're gonna have to kick you out." Luke threatened with a mock-serious expression. "But seriously Jack, the TV isn't working and everyone wants to play Fifa for some reason."

Jack shrugged as he motioned to Libby towards the living room, "I don't even know if we own Fifa..."

They all entered the spacious living room where everyone was. There were some teammates who she recognized and some people she'd never seen before. Jack and Luke ventured off toward the TV, leaving Libby to go stand by the couch. She'd enjoyed the night so far but as she stood there, anxiety began to creep into her stomach.

Everyone here knew somebody and right now the only people she was close with was her brother, Luke and Jack and they were all playing Fifa right now.

"Libs, get a controller we need one more player!" Jack shouted from the coach and waved at her to come over. Libby hesitated for a moment, feeling a familiar pang of anxiety at the thought of joining a group of people she didn't know well. But as she stared back at Jack, she swallowed all her fears and walked over, taking a controller.

As she settled in next to them, Libby felt a sense of normalcy wash over her. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she could just be herself, without the weight of everyone's expectations or the glare of being perceived.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[pedgito]

hi my darling! i would love to see eddie making u cum fast n hard and easing u through the orgasm. in a mood for attention + horneeeeeeeeee

hope u are doing well + staying healthy!!

author’s note: i love needy but attentive eddie so much so i hope you enjoy this as much as i did :(

cw: 18+ (minors dni), fem!reader, oral (f receiving), teasing/touchy eddie, eddie is the sweetest boyfriend in the world, he also loves getting his hair braided, fluff, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare, if i missed anything lmk.

word count: 3.2k

Eddie was a pleaser, albeit his lack of suaveness added to his charm. He fumbled over his words constantly, stuttered when he was nervous and around you—which was almost always. He laughed at the best and worst times—he could make a tense moment easier to get through and he chuckled through the silly ones. It was one of the reasons you fell for him so quickly.

But, if there was one thing about him that you didn’t initially expect—it was the greediness. His want, his insatiable need to make you feel good all the time. It started off small—holding your hand when you grabbed for his wrist instead, not wanting to be too touchy in public, but Eddie loved it. It was a hard switch at first, allowing yourself to have the things you wanted—even a simple touch. But, Eddie changed that part of you so quickly, you weren’t sure why it ever existed in the first place.

Eddie wasn’t always eager, he did enjoy the slow build up—he could kiss you for hours, slow presses of your lips, soft and delicate as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, driving you crazy. He’d kiss down your face, your neck, your entire body, reaching every last surface of skin possible to taste you. If he was feeling particularly playful, he’d nip at your side—bury his face into the curve of your waist and squeeze until your squealed, the soft tickle of his curls as the dragged against your skin, his blunt fingernails bringing you to near tears as he kept on until you were begging—only then would he let up. 

He liked slipping you over his lap, thighs spread out as your knees pressed into the mattress—you’d talk for hours on end, his fingers drawing absent patterns into your jeans, or your skin sometimes, if things got far enough. He liked to draw on you often, scribbling tiny designs on your wrists and hands as you laid on his chest, fingers dangling near his face. Eddie was a better listener than most, even when he didn’t have much to offer in return—small little noises of acknowledgement as he worked or closed his eyes even, just listening to your voice. It’s only when he throws the information back at you that you realize that he was listening and it wasn’t all for show, Eddie cared about you immensely.

As much as he liked to show that in public, it was very apparent when you were alone—but in all fairness, that care was reciprocated equally. You didn’t realize how much Eddie liked to be taken care of until he’s cross legged on the floor of his trailer one night, fresh out of the shower and popping another movie into the VHS player. He doesn’t say anything, but he looks up at you, almost pleading. 

“Again?” You ask with a faint laugh, holding your hand out.

Eddie hands you the brush and hair tie without word, smiling as you gave in, combing through his hair gently. It surprised you how well Eddie actually took care of his hair—assuming he was a water and three in one shampoo type of guy, which you were so far off about. He had all the necessary supplies, deep conditioning on the weekends and even let you do hair masks once a month; it was sweet and it made you happy, so Eddie obliged. He also really enjoyed having hair braided—he’d never been able to teach himself properly to do it on himself, but he was an expert when it came to the latter.

He always pulled your hair up or braided it back before sex, a small little intimacy that you didn’t know you needed. But, Eddie loved seeing your face—it was a crime for something so beautiful to be obscured or hidden from view, especially with how pretty you looked when you came—or so he always told you. 

You slipped your fingers through his hair, the small lean of his head as he fell into your touch, letting you pull and twist until you had the hair braided toward the crown of his head, pulling the rest up into a loose bun that sat near the top. Eddie tilted his head back, looking up at you with his wide eyes, lips pursing up into a pucker as he waited quietly. You smiled knowingly, leaning down to meet his lips in a chaste kiss. 

But, it was all a trap—Eddie had his hands around your waist the moment you leaned over, carefully sliding you to the floor beside him, your body thudding to the floor gently as he chuckled, “Are you feeling up to it tonight?”

“Are you?” You asked playfully, pressing your finger into his side until he jolts away, “You passed out last night after sex—like, immediately. I couldn’t even get you dressed, I just tucked you in and left.”

“It was a long campaign,” Eddie says in defense, “I didn’t think I’d be that exhausted—but I swear, I’m ready to go—I could go for hours, actually.”

You made a face of disbelief, not really believing him, “Don’t talk a big game if you can’t follow through.”

Eddie smiled deviously, shifting to his knees as he picked you up with an eagerness, hurling your body over his shoulder in one quick, solid movement, making the swift descent toward his unmade bed.

He was absolutely going to follow through.

“You’re almost there,” Eddie pants, thighs squeezed between his hands as he pushes your legs up and apart, face buried in your cunt as you cry out, his tongue licking the swell of your clit furiously, bringing you right to the peak, before abruptly pulling back. Eddie knew your body almost as well as you; he wasn’t going to let you come that easy, not yet, “need to hear you beg for it, baby.”

Eddie didn’t like to edge you as much as he enjoyed it for himself—it was like torture for you, feeling so overwhelmed and hot, overtaken and desperate, all for it to be ripped away at the last second. But, he loved hearing you, seeing you, the small pout in your lips as he pulled back.

“Ask nicely,” Eddie tuts, smug grin covering his face, “you know your manners, sweetheart.”

And it seems contradictory to his usual attitude, so eager to please, but you fall for it every time; putty in his hands as he leans forward, just a breath away from touching you.

“Fuck, please,” You reply desperately, “—we haven’t even fucked yet and you’re already being—“

“A what?” Eddie asks teasingly, leaning over to nip at your thigh, teeth tugging gently at the flesh. “Say it.”

“You’re being mean,” You say petulantly, “it’s not fair, Eddie.”

Eddie shakes head slightly, “Not mean—just selfish, sweetheart—love hearing that sweet little voice of yours when you beg to come.”

You sigh softly, knowing that Eddie wouldn’t give you what you wanted until gave him what he wanted in return, it was a fair game of give and take.

So you turn it on, embarrassing yourself with how needy you sound, “Please, Eddie—will you let me come?”

“I know you’re trying to be coy,” Eddie snarks back, “but it’s still working for me.” And of course it is.

You shove his head gently, pulling at the curls near the crown of his head until he’s looking at you, eyes attentive, mouth slack.

“I’m serious,” You tell me, voice soft and pleading, “I need it—it’s not one of those nights. I just wanna feel good, please?”

Eddie nods eagerly, lips grazing against your folds lightly, tongue pressing flat against the seam of your cunt, hot and wet against his tongue at the taste of your slick—he’d never get enough.

Eddie isn’t about wasting time either, giving you exactly what you asked for—it builds up quickly, intensely, his hands joining his mouth in a perfect synonymous pattern pleasure, working every last nerve-ending until you were practically screaming his name, gasping on a choked breath as you orgasm hits you hard, blindsiding you completely. You can’t even keep your eyes open, head falling back as you moaned openly through the rapid waves of pleasure, cunt spasming as Eddie continued, working you through the end of your orgasm—but the feeling still lingers, like the speed and intensity of it didn’t allow you feel it at its full potential, leaving you wanting even more.

Eddie noticed your discomfort, face pinched up in frustration as you panted, cursing out a soft, “Fuck.”

“Not enough?” Eddie asks with a small hint of assumption, pulling to his knees slightly, thighs spread out as he tucked his own under yours. He rubs at the top of them soothingly, squeezing at the bare skin, “That one seemed rough—you think you can handle another?”

You nod dumbly, shifting up on your hands until you’re leaned up slightly, shirt scrunched up your stomach, cunt aching and swollen as it shifted against nothing, almost like Eddie was holding your thighs apart for a reason—an unfair one, at that.

Again, he was insatiable—sometimes downright annoying, if he wanted to be. But, you couldn’t stand it, not tonight—like his long day from yesterday, you felt the sentiment fully. You needed it, wanting to pass out from coming so hard, vision whiting out, body going numb—it was an out of body experience that you couldn’t quite describe, but you yearned for it on days like this, the distraction was more than welcomed.

“Not gonna fuck you,” He settles, slipping his hand past the band of his boxers to take his growing cock in hand, feeling the twitch as he takes hold, having not touched himself the entire night, “not yet, baby.”

“Eddie,” You plead, lip pulled down in a subtle pout, impatiently reaching for the waistband of his boxers, only to be stopped by his fingers wrapping around your wrist, holding you back, “please—I need it.”

“I know,” He chuckles softly, using the control his has on your hand to guide it over his dick, fingers grazing the outline of his hand as your fingers mold over his as he ruts into his own hand—it feels incredibly intimate, his eyes never really leaving your face, only glancing toward your joined hands briefly when he squeezed a little too hard, pulling a deep, guttural groan from his chest, “god—I fuckin’ know, sweetheart.”

But, you really can’t help it anymore—growing more impatient as the moment passes, pulling eagerly at the fabric covering himself and Eddie’s kind enough, so he gives in, allowing you to pull his underwear down far enough to where it’s tucked under his balls, settled halfway down his thighs, giving you a full, unobstructed view of his dick, something you’d never get tired of. 

He squeezed at the base, face scrunched up in concentration as he keens his hips forward, angry tip of his cock pressing into your folds gently, the pooled wetness soaking him quickly and he smiles at the soft moan you release when he drags the line of his cock up the seam of your cunt.

“Fuck, you weren’t joking,” Eddie breathes out, the tip of his dick pressing against your clit in a way that has you gasping out into the quiet air, spurring him further, dragging it against you teasingly until you’re practically gasping for air, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, “she wants it so bad.”

And frankly, you could come at the idea of Eddie always treating your pleasure, your body, like it was its only sentient being, apart from you—but right now, you were just frustrated.

You shake your head furiously, “Switch,” You tell him, not giving him much room to argue, but still he does, return a short laugh and a head shake, letting you know he wasn’t quite done—unfortunately for him, he was, “Eddie, switch—now.”

“But, sweetheart—wuh,” Eddie isn’t prepared for the sudden shift, yanking him down until you can change the dynamic, shoving him against the mattress, tearing off the last article of clothing covering your body, hands placed firmly on his chest as you hover over, allowing him a short duration to adjust, “—Woah, okay—“

You shush him softly, reaching between your bodies to grasp his cock, heavy and warm in your hands, as you like him up at your entrance, his wide eyes watching intently, disappearing into your cunt as you sink down slowly, a soft nudge at your hips as his hands take hold, thumbs dipping into the fold where your thighs met your pelvis, guiding you down carefully.

“S’good,” He comments, “so fucking good, baby.”

Eddie was pussy drunk and rambling most of the time, so caught up in the moment that he didn’t even remember half of the shit he said, but it was more than welcomed in the moment, his raw and shot tone driving a deep hit of pleasure to your core, the soft grip of his rough, calloused hands as he held on, feeling like you were his only source of grounding himself. 

“And you wanted to wait,” You chide, whining softly at the sharp thrust of his hips as he fits fully inside of you, settled to the base, the full stretch as you adjusted to him, molded to him like he was made for you, “and now you get to sit,” Your fingers drag up to pull at his chain, guitar lick hanging over his chest, guiding him upright, “and watch.”

Eddie nods shakily, shifting back slightly on his hands to lean away, giving you the room to move, but allowing him the perfect view of you—your breasts, your body, your face, the ungodly sight of you sinking down on his cock, again and again. He couldn’t believe this was his life now—and that he had you. 

“Take it, babe,” He groans lowly, thighs spreading wide to give you support, the slow bounce of your hips as you start to move, it was just the nudge you needed to give in, “fucking take it.”

Your head falls back, hips bouncing at a slow, gentle rhythm. Your hands settle against his shoulder at first, allowing you some stability as you move, but giving you every reason to touch, feeling the muscle tense with every downward stroke, ass slapping against his thighs noisily. Eddie moans quietly, trying not to tip off how ruined he already was, but you hear it—you always do, like your ears were trained for it.

It spurs you, his hand traveling up the length of your body, over your thighs, up your stomach, grazing over the soft mound of your breasts until his hand falls against the curve where your shoulder meets your neck, the pad of his thumb rubbing soft, gentle circles into the skin. He’s itching for it, he wants to touch you, devour you, but he’s holding off, for his own sake rather than yours—because the moment he gives in, he’s done.

The pace picks up gradually, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body from exertion and Eddie’s lack of cool air flowing through his room, but you didn’t mind—it smelt like weed and sex and cigarettes, everything that reminded you of him, and a small hint of bergamot from his cologne. Eddie’s still being quiet, struggling, eyebrows pulled tight, his mouth hung open in a low moan. 

“Fuck, stop holding back,” You complain lightly, “I wanna hear you, Eddie.”

Eddie nods slowly, eyes brimming with lust, their normal brown shadowed by a dark need to please, to be everything that you want him to be.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” He apologizes, “it’s a little embarrassing.”

You shake your head, pulling a needy whine from his throat as you raise your hips sharply, slamming back down with fervor, his hands grip at your waist instinctively, holding you tight.

“It’s not,” You tell him seriously, hands threading through his curls, pulling tight until his head was taut and angled up at you, his mouth open in a soft pant, “I want to hear all of it.”

Eddie nods again, less focused—his pulling you against him now, aiding in his desperate attempt to fuck you until you couldn’t speak; it was working, unfortunately, your voice catching in your throat as he changed the dynamic, shifting onto his shins as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist securely, giving you no choice but to hold on to him, trust him. 

“Oh—“ You gasp loudly, allowing Eddie to push the hair that had fallen from it’s loose braid away from your face, soft eyes boring into his pensive ones, focused and determined—if it weren’t for the stray curl that fell over his forehead, you’d feel intimidated, but it softened his features immensely, “Eddie, I can’t—“

“You almost there?” He asks hotly, hot breath fanning over your chest.

“No—can’t, can’t come—it’s,” You grunt softly in frustration, feeling his hand move swiftly toward your clit, but it’s like you’re stuck, “it’s like I’m too distracted—I don’t know—“

“Hey,” He coos, pulling your face down to look at him—he’s checking in, eyes searching your frustrated expression, “close your eyes for me, baby.”

“But, I like looking at you.” You pout, earning a soft, stern look in return. You smile faintly, allowing your eyes to fall shut against your own will.

“Just focus,” He tells you softly, voice falling off on a soft groan, the dull slap of skin against skin as he fucks into you, the soft squelch of your slick and his, his thumb rubbing slow, deliberate circles against your clit. It’s right there—right fuck there and it hurts almost, but you need it, “I got you.”

You nod weakly, mouth falling open in a strained gasp as Eddie applies more pressure, switches the angle of hips slightly, leaving you defenseless and pliant to his orders, the delicate touches and focused hands.

You didn’t even realize your orgasm was hitting you until Eddie stalls, coming almost exactly when you do, spilling himself deep inside of you—it’s just as quick and hard as the first one, but hits even deeper, like a full body ache as you scream out on a choked whine, the soft praises of Eddie’s voice as he follows through, sounding just as wrecked. His hand never falters, working you through the waves of aftershocks, your body rocking against his touch helplessly, feeling every nerve in your body seize at the over-stimulation until you can’t breathe, falling tiredly into Eddie’s hold.

He laughs softly, face buried in the warm crook of your neck, the outline of a smile pushing against your skin as you breathe deep, trying to bring yourself back down. 

“Still with me?” Eddie asks after a while, rubbing his fingers against the soft skin of your back, soothing you more than he’d ever understand. 

“Yeah,” you reply softly, “sort of.”

Eddie chuckles again, pulling back to look at you, head cradled in his hands. 

“Shower first, sleep later,” Eddie instructs, nodding toward the small bathroom down the hall, “I’ll help.”

“But, you already showered.” You tell him, eyebrows pulled up in confusion. “Why would you—“

“Someone’s gotta hold you up,” Eddie says teasingly, “I can still feel your legs shaking.”

On cue, you feel the strained muscles quiver, legs feeling like jello around his hips. Eddie gives you a pointed look, waiting for you to give up your inherent stubbornness and let him take care of you properly.

“Fine,” You say with a soft sigh, failing to hide your smile as he digs his fingers into your side, biting at the soft flesh of your stomach playfully, “—Eddie, cut it out.” 

“Not a chance, sweetheart.” He tells you, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your lips, whispering a quiet admission of love against them.